Here For You
by wisegirl2772
Summary: "I'm tired of running," she whispered, her eyes bright with tears. "I-I'm sorry. I should have realized sooner, but -" He silenced her ramblings with a passionate kiss. "Shut up, Amy," he whispered, pulling away momentarily, before embracing her again.  Amy Wyman never thought a job would change her life, but it only takes a certain rugged Weasley to change her mind. CW/OC GOF.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Hey Guys! So, here's a story. Read it. Review. I'll do the talky stuff at the end.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything you recognize.

**Important Note: **This chapter had been edited as of 7-21-12

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><p>A witch stared up at the castle before her, the sun glinting off her reddish brown hair. She stared around in awe, taking in the sights of its towers and its simplistic, elegant beauty. Taking a breath, she closed her eyes in pleasure as she breathed in the fresh air from the lake, and she smiled brightly to herself. It was like something out of a dream or a story book. It didn't seem real. Heck, it didn't seem possible at first, but it really was here. It really existed and not simply as part of some vertically challenged wizard's mind. Grasping the strap of her bag firmly in her hand, Amy Wyman reached down to pick up her luggage and sweater, pulling it along beside her as she approached Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.<p>

Though it hadn't been long since she had step foot on the grounds of a magical school, she had never seen one as magnificent and awe-inspiring as this. She herself has attended the Salem Witch Academy in Danvers, Massachusetts. Though it was the home of the gruesome Salem witch trials that had blackened America's history, the school itself was a warm red brick building, which had housed close to two hundred witches. After spending seven years of her life in a school designed to teach young witches how to use their full potential of magic, Amy had decided to live her life teaching others what she had been taught. It didn't hurt that she got along with teenagers either.

This, of course, is what led Amy to where she was today. Upon request of Hogwarts's headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, the highly-esteemed wizard, Amy had left her old job at Salem as a teacher's assistant to come and teach Charms at Hogwarts. The last teacher, a one Filius Flitwick, had decided that his time at a teacher had come to an end, and he'd rather spend time traveling the world before the students finally drove him to insanity. Or at least, that's what Flitwick had told her during her interview for the job.

Either way, Amy had no qualms on picking up her life and moving to England, for it really only meant getting away from her overbearing parents and annoying siblings who liked to spend their time messing with her life, rather than their own. It had always been her dream to live away from her family, and England certainly was preferable. She had always told her parents during her teen years that if she hadn't turned out to be a witch then she certainly would have gone to a university out of state.

As she approached the entrance to the great school, Amy looked up at the words that adorned the doorway. _Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus_. '_Never tickle a sleeping dragon,'_ Amy translated in her head, smirking a bit at the magical pretenses it help while pondering the slightly humorous motto. As she reached the doorway, Amy raised a hand to knock on the large entrance door, before pausing. '_Is this the time to knock? Or do I just push open the door?'_ She glanced around to see if there was anyone else around her, someone who could show her exactly where she was going, but alas, there was no one of the green, lush grounds. So without a second thought, she opened her hand, pressing her palm to the door and pushing against it.

The door swung open with no resistance, revealing to Amy a wide hall with tall ceilings and torches notched into the wall. As she stepped into the entrance, her bags dropped to the ground. She stared up at the vastness of the hall, the suits of armor that stood in the walls, and the portraits that talked amongst themselves, all of them jolly and happy in their frames. She laughed to herself a bit, taking in everything around her, and she wondered if everyone who entered this school felt the same way. Hearing noises from nearby, Amy picked up her bags once more, and she walked the hall, turning her head this way and that, as she admired the stone walls that seemed to tell a story. And then suddenly before her, Amy was facing a doorway, but this time the door were open and seem to beckon and call to her, inviting her in. She placed her bags just outside the door, and she slowly stepped through the entrance and into a large, warm hall.

The first thing she saw was the tables, four long tables adjacent to each other with another one at the front of the hall. There were places set, and the benches were neatly tucked in. The second thing she saw was the ceiling. Oh Merlin, the ceiling… all she could see was blue. The blue of the sky that she had left behind after entering the school. The blue of the day that was filled with warmth and happiness. The ceiling, well there was _no _ceiling, only a blue sky, but in the blue, was grey. The grey of storm clouds that was quickly approaching, grey that showed the coming of darkness. Of cold and despair, and despite the warmth of the September day, she shivered under her cardigan.

"Do you sense it as well, Miss Wyman?" inquired a voice from behind her, breaking through the calm that had settled around her. Amy whipped around, turning quickly to face the voice that had spoken to her, startling her from her thoughts.

Just inside the doorway stood a man, one of great age, with a long white beard, and half-circle glasses. He was clothed in long purple robes, and he held himself with great dignity and he held the air of a man with wisdom that only age could acquire. There seemed to be an air, not only of wisdom and knowledge, but of kindness to him.

"Forgive me, if I startled you. Miss Wyman," he apologized, his voice light and slightly amused yet completely sincere in every aspect. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I am headmaster of Hogwarts."

"It's an honor, sir, I assure you of that," Amy replied instantly becoming as polite as she could. This was after all her boss. "I would introduce myself, but it seems that you already know who I am."

"But of course, Miss Wyman," Dumbledore said humorously. "You are Amy Wyman, born in Chicago, Illinois. You are the only witch out of your siblings, and you attended Salem Witch Academy where you were top of your class, prefect and Head Girl."

"It's a shame that I don't know as much about you as you do about me," Amy laughed, shaking her head slightly as the Headmaster spewed out random facts. "But it is a pleasure, nonetheless."

"It is indeed," Dumbledore smiled. "Though perhaps this conversation would be best continued in my office." He turned, gesturing with his aged hands to the hallway behind him. Amy smiled at him again, looking up for just a brief moment at the ceiling-sky again, before walking past the wizard and to the doorway. She stopped to pick up her bags only to be interrupted by Dumbledore. "Ah, do not worry about those." Amy glanced back at him, as he waved a hand towards her luggage. When she turned back, her bags were gone, and she straightened up abruptly.

"Well," Amy started blankly, "I guess we should be on our way."

"Yes," Dumbledore responded. "We should be."

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Okay, so I wrote this in about an hour, so it's not amazing. Anyway, we won't start off immediately with the Charlie/Amy romance, but we'll get there. This takes place in Goblet of Fire, so of course they'll meet because of the dragons, but they won't actually get together immediately... Don't worry though. They will. Also this chapter won't go day by day, because I need to keep Charlie in the story, and he's really not in the series at all, so I'll add him in as we go. Yule Ball, the tournaments, etc. Hope you guys enjoyed it!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: **So, here's chapter two. I know that there are people reading this, but I would really like some feedback. Anyway, here's the sorting.

**Disclaimer:** Anything you recognize, I didn't write. A lot of this chapter is from the book, but I had to follow it for the sorting. So, I don't own anything (except Amy Wyman), so please don't sue me.

**Important Note:** This chapter has been edited as of 7-24-2012

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><p>Several hours had passed since Amy's arrival at Hogwarts, and the witch now found herself seated anxiously at the high table in the Great Hall, alongside her new colleagues. Instead of the jeans and sweater she had been wearing upon her arrival, she was now clothed in a set of peacock blue robes, and she was immersed in a conversation with one of the professors seated next to her. They were waiting for the arrival of the students, who, it seemed, had been held up by the pounding, thundering rain outside. The sky, which had, what seemed like moments ago, been a bright blue with a hint of grey, was coated in dark, bleak clouds and lightning streaked through the sky.<p>

"The students should be here any minute," commented the professor next to her, whose name had escaped her (something about a flower). Amy glanced at her for a moment, about to respond with a question, but she was interrupted by the mass arrival of the Hogwarts students.

It started as a trickle, just a few students, but it quickly became a flood of minors. All of the students were dressed in black, and for a moment they were all together, all one body of kids returning from vacation, but then they split and were no longer such. The crowd that had once been diverse and intermingled was now divided, and Amy watched as the students split into red, blue, green, and yellow. Her eyes strayed for a moment on the blue students, observing the way they carried themselves, almost with a smug intelligence. '_Ravenclaw,'_ she reminded herself, remembering the text that she had read on her journey here. _'The house that I am the head of.'_

Her eyes stayed on them for a moment longer, before she continued her scan of the other houses. Along with the students, she saw several ghosts appeared, conversing with the teens and gliding through tables and benches. As her eyes passed the drenched students, she caught sight of a group of students at the red table. There wasn't anything particularly extraordinary about them, but something was different. There was just… something, something she couldn't quite put her finger on, but before she was able to continue pondering the group, the doors to the Great Hall opened. As everyone's eyes moved to the back of the hall, Professor McGonagall, an elderly woman, who Amy realized quickly not to toy with (at least not too much), appeared, followed by a long line of small, dripping wet students, all of whom were looking about as they waited to be sorted.

McGonagall approached the front of the hall, nodding at her colleagues at the front of the hall, before placing a stool on the floor and pulling out an old, tattered hat. Amy sat forward in her chair, her back arched slightly as she watched the scene unfold intently. This, apparently, was how the students were to be sorted, something else that she had learned in one of her research books on Hogwarts' history. As she waited for McGonagall's voice to call up the first student, the witch was surprised to hear a croaky old voice break out into a song. She wasn't sure exactly where the voice came from before she noticed how everyone's eyes were on that of the tattered hat, and she realized with a gasp that it was the _hat _that was singing in a gravelly voice.

A thousand years or more ago,  
>When I was newly sewn,<br>There lived four wizards of renown,  
>Whose names are still well known:<br>Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,  
>Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,<br>Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,  
>Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.<br>They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,  
>They hatched a daring plan<br>To educate young sorcerers  
>Thus Hogwarts School began.<br>Now each of these four founders  
>Formed their own house, for each<br>Did value different virtues  
>In the ones they had to teach.<br>By Gryffindor, the bravest were  
>Prized far beyond the rest;<br>For Ravenclaw, the cleverest  
>Would always be the best;<br>For Hufflepuff, hard workers were  
>Most worthy of admission;<br>And power-hungry Slytherin  
>Loved those of great ambition.<br>While still alive they did divide  
>Their favourites from the throng,<br>Yet how to pick the worthy ones  
>When they were dead and gone?<br>'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,  
>He whipped me off his head<br>The founders put some brains in me  
>So I could choose instead!<br>Now slip me snug about your ears,  
>I've never yet been wrong,<br>I'll have a look inside your mind  
>And tell where you belong!<p>

The students who were seated at their designated tables broke out into applause, and Amy followed suit, as did all of the teachers and faculty, while watching intently as McGonagall now unraveled a large scroll which just barely reached the hem of the witch's robes.

"When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool. When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table," McGonagall instructed, before reading off the parchment. "Ackerley, Stewart!"

Amy watched curiously as a young boy approached the stool, hesitantly placing the hat on his head. The witch couldn't exactly see what the boy's expression looked like but she presumed that it was one of nervousness and anxiety as he waited to be sorted. A moment passed before the hat called out, "RAVENCLAW!" and Amy clapped loudly along with everyone else, sitting back in her high-back chair, content to watch the rest of the sorting from there.

The entire sorting took about twenty minutes, and as the last student was sorted into Hufflepuff, Amy glanced over towards Professor Dumbledore, who, as expected, stood before the Hogwarts community. She was expecting him to make a speech of some sort, a sort of Welcome-Back-to-School gesture, but surprisingly he said very little.

"I have only two words to say to you," he announced loudly, and he folded his hands together with a smile. "_Tuck in."_

From the center of the hall, Amy heard two distinct voices call out "Hear, hear!", and she, and several other students, laughed before glancing around at the piles of food which had, well, _magically_ appeared around her, and she began to eat.

It wasn't until after dessert had finally been served that Amy glanced back towards Dumbledore, who had stood once more immediately ceasing any and all chatter in the hall of students.

"So! Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, had asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

Amy smiled at this, knowing that the viewers of that list would be few to none.

"It is also my pleasure to introduce our new Charms teacher, Professor Wyman, who will be taking over the Ravenclaw house seeing as Professor Flitwick retired."

There was a round of applause as Amy stood, her robes swishing around her gracefully, and she smiled, waving slightly at the Ravenclaw table. As she sat, Dumbledore continued in his speech.

"As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds in out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year." Amy could have sworn she heard grumbling at this, and she smiled a bit, remembering just how tempting it could be to break the rules.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year." All eyes fell on the wizard, and Amy too looked towards Dumbledore, before looking back at the students. Almost every single one of them had sat with their jaws dropped open in shock. Dumbledore continued on through the stony silence nonetheless, despite the blatant shock of the students.

"This is due to an even that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy-" Amy almost grumbled at that, but knew that she was supposed to be maintaining some sort of professional reputation, "-but I am sure you will enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts-"

Lightning flashed violently across the ceiling, followed closely by a crash of thunder which tore through the room, seceded only by the sound of the Great Hall's doors opening. Everyone turned to stare at the man, whose distorted figure stood framed in the shadowy depths of the doorway. As he limped through the hall, the heads of every single student, teacher, and ghost followed him, watching his hobbled steps closely, as he approached Dumbledore. When he was close to the front table, Amy was able to see that his face was scarred and carved, and in place of one his eyes, an electric blue one was stuck, revolving in the hollow of his eye socket, spinning seemingly uselessly. It was unnerving to say the least, even for the teacher. Everyone watched as he moved across the table and into his seat, promptly grabbing several servings of food.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? Professor Moody." However, unlike the applause that had been granted to Amy, no one, except Dumbledore and the groundskeeper, Hagrid, applauded the dark stranger, who took no notice of what was going on around him, focusing instead upon his plate of food.

Dumbledore cleared his throat awkwardly before continuing once more.

"As I was saying, we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" a humorous voice called out. As the hall laughed at the outburst, Amy searched for the speaker and finally found him (though it wasn't hard with the looks he was receiving from around the hall). It was a boy, about seventeen or so, who was seated at the red-correction, _Gryffindor-_ table. He had red hair and his face was splattered with numerous freckles and seated next to him, was a boy with identical features.

"I am _not _joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who go into a bar…"

Amy, though curious about what could be funny enough to amuse the great Dumbledore, was relieved when McGonagall broke in with a cough. "Er-but maybe this is not the time…no…" And Dumbledore continued, speaking to the students about the event, explaining to them exactly what this meant, and of course, warning them of the dangers. During his speech, Amy spaced out slightly, as she had heard this conversation but hours ago, and it wasn't until the students were standing that she realized the Headmaster had stopped speaking. She glanced around to see the students leaving the hall, and she too stood, bidding good-night to the other professors, who also had stood, and left the hall.

'_Well,'_ Amy thought. _'This is certainly going to be an interesting year.'_

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Thanks for reading! Go ahead and review!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: **Alright, Chapter 3! Now, I probably would've had this chapter up much sooner, and instead would've been updating the fourth chapter right now, but my computer wigged out and deleted the chapter. Well... anyway... CHAPTER THREE!  
><strong>DISCLAIMER:<strong> No I don't.

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><p>It is needless to say that none of the students were ready for term to start. It is also needless to say that none of the teachers were ready for term to start. They would all much rather be asleep in their beds, but instead they found themselves fighting against the drowsiness of summer, caused by sleeping in and relaxing in the sun.<p>

But nonetheless, Hogwarts' students found themselves up and out of bed, none of them really concerned on arriving on time to their first class. Which is true, unless you were a sixth year student with Charms in the morning. None of the students dared to be late, fearing the wrath of this new teacher.

By the time the first bell rang, all of the students were seated, their supplies spread onto their desks, all of them prepared for their first class. Everyone except the professor. In fact, the professor was almost five minutes late. Or at least late enough to have the students shifting in their seats and murmuring amongst themselves.

Lee Jordan leaned over to the twin on his left. "Hey Fred," Lee muttered. "You think we should skive out before the teacher arrives?"

"Maybe," Fred muttered back. "Come on, let's get out of here." Fred stood up, gathering his things, before nodding at George and Lee who followed him. As they approached the back of the classroom, the door burst open and the young professor skidded into the room.

"Finally!" She exclaimed, a large smile on her face. "I've been looking for this room forever!" She laughed a colorful laugh, before reaching up to smooth her hair. She glanced around, and her gaze finally landed on the troublemaking trio. She looked at their bags, which were unstrapped and papers bursting from it. "Going somewhere boys?" She asked with a quirked eyebrow.

It took a moment for the boys to respond. It wasn't so much as the teacher's surprise arrival, but more the fact of the clothes she was wearing. Instead of the traditional robes that all the teachers wore, she instead was wearing a floral dress, showing off her bare shoulders and the bottom half of her legs. Needless to say, the boys were slightly distracted. The boys glanced at each other for a moment before back at their professor. "Of course not!" The exclaimed together.

The professor looked at them appraisingly for a moment, before slowly nodding her head. "Yes, of course not," she agreed, but the boys saw a look in her eyes, that convinced them that she didn't believe them. "In that case then," she started, "You should get back to your seats."

The trio nodded quickly before bouncing back to their seats and taking out their materials again. Amy shook her head at the boys, before walking to the front of room. She dropped her messenger bag onto the teacher's desk before turning around to face the students of the class.

"Good Morning! My name is Professor Wyman, and I am going to be your Charms teacher," Amy smiled at the class. Most of the students smiled back, but a few of them were still taken aback from her attire. "Since this is my first day here at Hogwarts, I guess I should introduce myself a little more." Amy leaned back against the desk, crossing her arms across her chest, and lifting her head slightly into a thinking stance.

"My name is Amy Wyman, I was born in Chicago, Illinois in the United States, I attended Salem Witch Academy, and I was Head Girl in my final year. While at school, Charms was not my best subject, but I found it was the subject in which helping others came most easily to me.

"My favorite color is blue, I enjoy reading, I spent most of my summers in the countryside, and I really do not like chickens. Along with reading, I spend a lot of my time messing with my siblings." Amy took a breath before completing her introduction.

"Now that my introduction is taken care of, we should probably get started with class," Amy concluded, Amy turned back to her desk, picking up her wand before turning back to the students. "Today, we're going to be working on turning vinegar into wine." Amy waved her wand, a flask of vinegar appearing in her hand. "As you can see," Amy placed the goblet on one of the student's desk before waving her wand once more and proclaiming the incantation. "If you do the spell correctly, the vinegar should change into a sweet, red wine.

"Now," the professor instructed, "The theory and computation of the spell can be found on page 254 in your books. You should all probably review that before beginning. Or you can skip the theory and computation and try the spell out." Several of the students looked up at her, disbelief on their faces. "You can tell me how that goes afterwards." The students laughed, surprised at the lightness that this new teacher exhibited. "Well, go on!" Amy exclaimed waving her hands at the students.

In the end, it was probably one of the most enjoyable Charms class the students had ever had. Their professor spent most of her time joking with them (after they had completed the assignment of course) and laughing at the expense of George Weasley, when his goblet exploded all over him. At the end of the class, the students waved good-bye to the young teacher, all of them laughing and smiling as they went off to their next class.

She wasn't nothing like the other teachers, that was for sure. She was young enough to be their sister, and she had a sense of humor, something almost all teachers lacked.

As the last student exited the room, Amy turned to her desk, gathering her papers and organizing them into an orderly pile on the edge of her desk. While her back was turned, she didn't hear anyone enter the room, and it wasn't until someone grasped her shoulder, that Amy spun around, her wand held in front of her.

"Excuse me miss!" Professor Dumbledore exclaimed heartily. "I did not mean to startle you. Although, it seems as if that is how I have come to greet you."

Amy laughed along with the professor, lowering her wand. "What can I do for you professor?" Amy questioned a graceful smile on her face.

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore replied. "Well, I am here to ask if you could do a small favor for me." When Amy nodded he continued. "As you know, we have preparing for the Triwizard Tournament, and to help prepare the grounds for the first task, a team of experts will be arriving tonight to set up enclosures for some of the creatures that will be used. I, unfortunately, am unable to meet the team tonight, due to a previous engagement, so I wonder if you could possibly meet them tonight, and show them the land that has been set aside." Dumbledore looked at her imploringly for a moment, awaiting Amy's response.

"Oh, of course," she answered. "It's no trouble at all."

"Excellent!" Dumbledore cried, clasping his hands together. "Now, you already know where the enclosures will be, so you will just need to show the team where to go. When they arrive, ask for Charlie Weasley, he should be the one in charge."

Amy looked at Dumbledore curiously for a moment. "Weasley? As in… George and Fred Weasley?"

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore continued. "Charlie is one of the Twins' older brothers."

"One of?" Amy questioned again.

"The Twins have three older brothers, a younger brother, and younger sister. I am sure that by the end of the school year, you will be introduced to all of them," Dumbledore answered. "Now, if you will excuse me. I am after all an extremely busy man."

Amy laughed lightly. "Of course professor. Have a good day."

"You as well Miss Wyman."

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Alright, Chapter three... fourth chapter should be up soon!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** Chapter Four... that's about all you're going to get.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I am not British, so I'm clearly not J.K. Rowling.

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><p>Several hours after supper, Amy found herself walking alone towards the gates of Hogwarts. The last bit of the sun was etched over the lake; darkness had fallen except for the last bit of the afternoon sky that lay blanketed over the water.<p>

As she approached the large gates, Amy looked at the watch around her wrist. '_They should be here any moment,' _Amy thought to herself. Amy leaned against the side of gate, resting her head on the metal spokes. It had been a long day. After the sixth years, Amy had to deal with the nervous and jumpy first years, followed by some chaotic and disrespectful Slytherin fourth years. It wasn't the best day, but it was a lot better than she could have hoped for. She closed her eyes against the final strands of the summer's sun, breathing in the fresh air.

It was different here at Hogwarts. It was just different in England. Amy wasn't really use to the formal way everyone seem to speak. Even the way the students spoke was different to her. Maybe it was the accents that made her think this, and maybe she'd get used to it.

Amy smirked, thinking of her friends back in Chicago. She remembered how they use to put on fake British accents when they were younger. They always sounded so stupid. That was before she found out she was a witch. She missed the simplicity of the Muggle world. But there really wasn't anything like the Wizarding world was there?

Voices broke Amy from her thoughts and back her into the present. "Hello?" Amy stood up from against the fence and turned around. Behind the gates of Hogwarts stood a group of people, all of them fairly young, around the same age as her. They were dressed in leathers, and for most of them, their arms were covered in burns.

Someone stepped forward from the group, their face cast into shadows, for the sun had finally set and the grounds now were covered in shadows.

"Professor?" The voice was deep and strong, obviously that of a man. "Professor Dumbledore?"

Amy laughed a little and waved her wand, uncasting the spells that locked the gates. "No, not exactly," she answered. Amy stepped back as the group stepped forward and onto the grounds of Hogwarts. "I'm Professor Wyman. Professor Dumbledore asked me to show you the grounds, seeing as he had a prior engagement."

After the last of the visitors had entered the grounds, Amy turned back to the gate once more, waving her wand and replacing the security wards. Amy moved to the front of the group, lighting her wand with a quick _Lumos_. "If you'll follow me."

As Amy led the group to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the group behind muttered amongst themselves, perhaps wishing that Dumbledore was leading them instead. After all, she was young, perhaps too young in their opinion, and they'd probably much rather have someone with more experience leading them into the dark forest, but they'd just have to suffer, now wouldn't they?

As Amy was thinking, one of the visitors approached her, falling into step beside her. "Professor?" It was the same man from before, the one with the deep voice. Amy looked at him, his face now illuminated in the light from her wand. He was taller than her, maybe by five inches or so, and his arms were extremely muscled, proving that his job was one that called for him to be fit. Amy now looked up, towards his face. His eyes were a bright blue, which contrasted with his bright hair, bright _red_ hair.

"You're Charlie Weasley, right?" Amy asked, her voice was quiet, so as to not disturb the forest's silence. He looked down at her, surprise evident on his face.

"Uh, yes I am," Charlie began. "How'd you know?" Amy glanced at him before looking ahead at the uneven path before them.

"Professor Dumbledore mentioned you earlier," Amy informed him, "But it was mainly the hair. Your brothers, Fred and George, have the same coloring."

Charlie nodded. "Ah, yes," He started. "You've had the pleasure of meeting the Twins."

She laughed again, a sound that Charlie found he liked. "A pleasure?" Amy questioned. "Right, if a pleasure is finding them trying to sneak out of class just as you arrive, then yes, it certainly was a _pleasure." _Amy concluded, laughing at the memory of her first class.

Charlie laughed along with her, finding himself glancing down at the woman next to him. The glow of her wand lit up her face, driving away the woods' shadows from her face. To many people, she probably would be considered delicate, but there was something about her that convinced Charlie she was anything but. Her hair was frizzy, probably from the summer's last heat, the ends curling up around her shoulders. Shoulders, he noted, that were bare. He glanced down the length of her body, taking in the dress that she was wearing. It wasn't often that you would find a teacher who didn't wear the dress robes worn by most teachers. Then again, it wasn't often that you would find a teacher who was as young as she. It was surprising, but a nice surprise to say the least. A very nice surprise.

Suddenly, Professor Wyman stopped. Behind her, the visitors huddled around in the darkness, peering into the darkness. Amy muttered a quiet spell under her breath, and a ball of light flew from her wand and into the darkness. It exploded, casting a white glow over the land in front of them, before the millions of orbs froze in midair, illuminating the forest around them.

The group crowded around the professor, gazing over the land that had been set aside. "Well," Amy began, "here it is. Professor Dumbledore has set this land aside for you. Although, I'm not really sure what for." She glanced up at Charlie, who took a step forward.

"Dragons," he said, gazing around the enclosure.

"Wait," Amy started, "Dragons? That's the first task? The Champions have to fight dragons?"

"Not fight," a woman said, stepping forward onto the clear land. "They just have to get past them."

"Oh yes," Amy said, her voice laced with a hint of sarcasm. "That's much easier." The woman turned back and glared at Amy for a moment, before continuing to survey the land. Amy stood back as the group, which she now knew to be dragonkeepers, evaluated the land. _'Do they really expect students, students who are barely even adults, to be able to get past a fully grown dragon?'_

"Well," Charlie remarked, "there's plenty of space for three dragons, even a fourth if that many were needed. There would also be enough distance between the cages and the trees, so there wouldn't be any accidental fires, and it's far enough from the school that none of the students should be able to find it. I think this is as good a place as any," he concluded, looking at his colleagues, who nodded with his assessment.

"Excellent," Amy said pulling out her wand, before waving it, causing the bright orbs to disappear in the now ever darkening sky. "If that's all, we should probably head back to the entrance." With that, Amy turned on her heel, holding her illuminated wand in front of her, and started the walk back through the forest. Behind her, she heard the visitors following after her, many of them whispering to each other.

Charlie fell in line beside her again, and the two walked side by side through the dark woods. Soon after leaving the woods, the group found themselves on the outskirts of the grounds, just before the entrance gates. Charlie turned to Amy as the neared the exit.

"Watch out for Ron," Charlie said, tearing through the comfortable silence that had stood between the two. Amy turned to Charlie, confusion etched on her face.

"Ron?" she asked.

"My youngest brother, he's a fourth year," Charlie clarified. "Fred and George may have a lot of tricks up their sleeves, but that's just it. It's just tricks. Ron and his friends however, they can get themselves into a lot of sticky situations to say the least."

"Right," Amy replied, uncertainly. "And how do you think Ron would feel if he knew you were asking me to babysit?"

"He'll deal with it," Charlie said with a shrug.

Amy laughed lightly. "Right." By this time the group had reached the gates, and Amy waved her wand, allowing the gates to open again. As the dragonkeepers left the grounds, Charlie turned back once more.

"It's been a pleasure," he said, holding out a hand to the teacher. Amy grasped his hand, hers soft against the calluses on his. "Good night then Professor Wyman."

"Mr. Weasley!" Amy called as he began to walk away. He turned back for a moment. "Please, it's rather odd to have someone the same age as me call me professor." He laughed. "It's Amy."

"Of course," Charlie said a small smile on his face. "Good night then _Amy."_

"Good night." Amy watched as the group walked forward a few steps more before turning and disappearing. Charlie, who was the last to disapparate, waved slightly at Amy, who waved back, and then he was gone.

As Amy turned to make her way up to the castle, she smiled a little, biting her lip gently.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Alright, Charlie and Amy have met! Next chapter should either be Amy meeting the Golden Trio or I might skip ahead to the arrival of the other schools... I don't know yet...

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:** Alright, Chapter five! Woot woot! This one's really boring, but it had to be written. A lot of it is from the book, but still. Actually... I have another chapter written... only problem is that the chapter is the wedding in book 7... yeah I just had to get it written, I had the perfect chapter already in my mind and I didn't want to lose it.

**DISCLAIMER:** I own NOTHING! Except Amy, but other than that, I own nothing!

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><p>It was several days later that Amy met Ron. He, of course, had the same hair as Charlie and the same eyes, but was much lankier and had less muscle than his older brother. She didn't understand why Charlie thought Ron was a magnet for trouble. He looked like any other fourth year. Carefree but still just learning how to live with the feelings burning up inside.<p>

Feelings, Amy gathered, that were for the young girl Ron was sitting with. It was quite obvious that the feelings Ron felt towards the bushy haired girl were much more then platonic.

It was the first class Amy had teaching this group of fourth years, which also meant it was the first class Amy had with Harry Potter. It was a common name, even in America, but Amy had never really been a fangirl of his story. It wasn't exactly one to fawn over really. Sure, he had defeated one of the darkest wizards, but he had lost his parents in the process.

"Morning class!" Amy greeted. "I'm Professor Wyman, and I'd like to start today with the basics. Basically, I just want you to practice what you've done in previous years, because this year is going to be much harder than previous years. I'm not going to go into too much of a ramble, so you should all get started." Amy waved her wand, a swarm of teacups flying to each of the students' desks.

As the class practiced, Amy walked amongst them, watching them and helping them when needed.

'_This is what a class is supposed to be,'_ Amy thought smiling to herself.

Weeks passed, and Amy found herself settling into the flow of Hogwarts. Many students soon found the young professor to be their favorite, for she had a sweet temperament and knew how to laugh. The professors too found that they liked this new teacher. She knew what she was doing and obviously was able to teach the students in an efficient way, seeing as most of the classes already were ahead in their studies.

As the leaves started to change from their natural green into the bright orange of autumn, the teachers found the students were changing too. All of them were excited for the arrival of the other schools, and for the beginning of the Triwizard Tournament. Amy also found excitement brewing in her, although it wasn't exactly for the tournament…

The arrival of the school delegates was anticipated by all, and as they waited on the grounds of Hogwarts, the heads of houses found themselves straightening up their students, trying to make them at least semi-presentable.

Amy stood in front of the Ravenclaws, most of who were fidgeting around. Amy turned to smile at them before facing forward once more. As she turned, some of the students cried out. Amy looked up to see a large carriage approaching the school. It landed on the grounds, skidding slightly in the dirt.

As the doors opened, a large woman stepped out, followed closely by her students, all of who were shivering in their uniforms, which were made of what seemed to be silk.

'_Well, that's not very practical, now is it?'_ Amy thought to herself. She shook her head slightly, watching as the French students hurried inside the school, most of them grumbling about the coldness of the school. Amy laughed lightly at the stares the French girls were getting from many of the Hogwarts boys. '_Silly, silly boys,'_ Amy thought.

As the Beauxbatons students entered the school, the Hogwarts students turned back, some of them reluctantly, around, now awaiting the arrival of the Durmstrangs students. They didn't have to wait long. Out of the depths of the lake, a mast broke the surface, followed closely by the rest of the ship.

The students muttered amongst themselves as the foreign students disembarked the ship. The muttering stopped however as the headmaster and an older boy approached Dumbledore.

Amy knew the boy was familiar, but she wasn't sure from where until, from behind her, she heard new murmurings all of them saying, "Krum." It hit Amy in an instant. Victor Krum, international Quidditch star. Most of the students, girls and boys alike, were in whispered uproar at the appearance of this star, debating over how they could possibly get his autograph.

Rolling her eyes and sighing, Amy led her students back into the school, after their new guests, who seem to like Hogwarts much more than the Beauxbatons students. Many on them were removing their fur outer layers and enjoying the little warmth that the October air offered. As the entered the Great Hall, the Durmstrang students gaped at the ceiling, unlike the Beauxbatons students, who were rubbing their arms insistently and glowering.

After seating her students, Amy made her way to the front table, seating herself with Professor Sprout on one side and an empty chair on the other. She squirmed in her seat slightly, for instead of her usual attire, she had donned a set of witch's robes, so as to not stand out as much, especially in light of the arrival of these new visitors.

As the heads of the schools took their places, Professor Dumbledore stood. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and – most particularly – guests. I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable," Dumbledore smiled out at the guests, most of who stared back at him, except for one Beauxbatons girl who let out a bitter laugh. Dumbledore continued as though he hadn't heard. "The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home."

Dumbledore seated himself and began to speak to the headmaster of Durmstrang, who, Amy noticed uneasily, had been stealing glances at her during Dumbledore's welcome. _'At least there's a chair in between us,'_ Amy thought, before turning to speak to Pomona.

As part of the welcome, the serving plates now featured foods from the two visiting countries. Serving herself a little from each dish, Amy couldn't help but think back to the family dinners she had as a child, where her mother's side would always bring Italian and her father's German. This was very similar to that, especially seeing as Amy disliked that food as much as she disliked the food that she was eating at that moment. She vowed to stick to the English food next time, as she pushed aside a fishy stew from her plate.

"And who might you be, my dear lady?" Amy turned in her seat to see the headmaster of Durmstrang smiling her, his teeth sharp and slightly yellow.

"Oh, I'm Professor Wyman," she introduced. "I'm the Charms teacher here at Hogwarts." She held out a hand for him to shake, but he instead grasped her hand before kissing it gently. Amy stomach clenched and squirmed and she almost lost the bouillabaisse that she had just eaten.

"I am Igor Karkaroff," he announced boldly after releasing her hand, which she drew quickly to her side, wiping her hand inconspicuously against her robes. "It's very much a pleasure to meet you."

Amy smiled lightly, although it never reached her eyes. "Likewise," she agreed, although not entirely as enthusiastically as he had. Before the conversation could continue any further though, a large bellied man appeared in between the two.

"Good evening Igor!" The man boomed, smiling broadly at the headmaster. "How long has it been?"

Karkaroff cleared his throat. "Not long," he replied, his eyes cold at the interruption. As the man turned away, Amy heard Karkaroff mutter angrily, "Enough."

The potbellied man took no notice of this, but turned to face Amy. "And who might this fair maiden be?" He looked expectantly at Amy.

"Professor Wyman," Amy asked a slight laugh in her voice. "I'm the Charms professor."

The man nodded. "Ah yes," he started, "I've heard much about you! You seem to have a bit of a fan club here Miss Wyman." Amy laughed again. "I'm Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Tell Miss Wyman, are you a Quidditch fan?"

Amy took a moment to think. "Of watching? Yes. Actually playing? No, not so much. Why do you ask?"

Bagman grinned broadly. "Well," he began. Amy listened as he explained his past life as beater for the Wimbourne Wasps. In the end, Amy was very glad that he had sat down; for she'd much rather endure this man's rambling about his success than have to sit under the leering of Karkaroff.

Before he continue in his monologue though, Professor Dumbledore stood, and silence spread through the Great Hall.

"The moment has come. The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket, just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" –Mr. Crouch received a small smatter of applause –"and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

Mr. Bagman's introduction received a much louder round of applause, along with whooping, which Amy strongly suspected had come from the many Quidditch fans.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament, and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Mazime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts," Dumbledore continued. Out of the corner of her eye, Amy saw that at the mention of the champions every student, visitors or not, sat up straight in their chairs, listening more intently than ever. Dumbledore continued however, as though nothing had changed in the students' attention. "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

From the back of the hall, Amy watched as the school's aged caretaker, Argus Filch, came forward, carting a large wooden chest down the aisle. The chest was encrusted with large gems, and it was extremely old.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman, and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways… their magical prowess – their daring – their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger," Dumbledore informed the students as Filch arrived at the front of the hall, chest in tow.

"As you know," Dumbledore said, stepping down from his post and towards the casket, "three champions compete in the tournament, one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore removed his wand from his sleeve, taping it against the casket three times, before stepping back to watch lid of it opened. He reached in and pulled out a large wooden cup. He closed the lid of the casket, before placing the goblet on the lid.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet. Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete." Dumbledore glanced around the hall once more before continuing on in his speech.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall," Dumbledore glanced towards the Weasley Twins for a moment before continuing, "Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line."

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

With that, Dumbledore left his post walking back to the head table, bidding good night to Madame Maxime and Professor Karkaroff. Amy stood, preparing to leave when Karkaroff grabbed her wrist. She turned for a moment, restraining from pulling her arm from him.

"Good night Madam," he said, bowing over her hand and kissing in again, his small beard rough against the soft skin.

"Uh, good night Professor," she replied, pulling her hand away gently. Karkaroff straightened before going off to lead his students back to their ship. Amy shivered slight, wiping her hand again on her robes, before following the other professors to their rooms.

'_I need to stay away from him,'_ she thought, grimacing at the memory of him kissing her hand.

Seeing as the next day was Saturday, Amy spent most of the day in her room, writing letters to her family and friends. Since arriving at Hogwarts, she hadn't been able to send many letters, and she had started to miss the craziness of her family and friends.

As Amy finished the last letter, which she was sending to her friend Georgie, she realized that she should probably head down to the Great Hall. It was almost time for the feast, and she didn't think it would be very appropriate to arrive late to that. Hastily, she changed out of her shorts and sweatshirt and into a pair of robes, again fidgeting in the tightness of them.

As she hurried down the halls, she passed by many students who were all excitedly talking about the upcoming feast. As Amy entered the Great Hall, she noted that none of the students were talking amongst each other, but instead their focus was on the goblet, which was emitting flames of blue. As Amy took her seat (one far away from Karkaroff), Professor Dumbledore entered the hall.

As he took his seat, the platters filled with Halloween food, but despite the delicious aromas, no one seemed very interested in the food, but rather the goblet.

Finally, when the plates were cleaned and the platters empty, Dumbledore stood, and any chatter that had been going on stopped immediately.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber, where they will be receiving their first instructions."

Dumbledore removed his wand from his sleeve, casting it over the Great Hall and extinguishing the lights from the pumpkins. In the darkness, the blue flames sparked in the dark, sending warmth into the occupants of the hall. Everyone sat still, staring into the painfully bright flame, waiting… until a burst of red shot into the blue, a tongue of fire shooting upwards, and a piece of parchment flew from the flames.

Dumbledore's hand shot out, grasping the paper, before turning it over and reading the name that was illuminated in the blue fire. "The champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum."

The hall burst into applause, and Amy heard Karkaroff crying out, "Bravo, Viktor! Knew you had it in you!" Amy rolled her eyes at his blatant favoritism of the famed Quidditch player.

As the clapping and cheering died down, the flame turned blue once more, shooting another piece of parchment into the air. Again, Dumbledore grasped the name, reading out loudly, "The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!" Again, the hall broke out into applause, while the other Beauxbatons students began to cry, obviously disappointed that they had not been picked.

As the goblet turned red once more, every Hogwarts student leaned forward, anticipating the name of their champion. "The Hogwarts champion," Dumbledore announced, "is Cedric Diggory!"

The Hufflepuff students jumped to their feet, screaming and stomping, cheering Cedric on as he approached the front table. As he exited the room, Dumbledore relit the lights, allowing light back into the hall.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore cried enthusiastically. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering you champion on, you will contribute in a very real-" Dumbledore stopped, his voice breaking off. Amy leaned forward in her seat, watching as Dumbledore stared at the Goblet.

The Goblet has turned red once more, and almost impossibly, the goblet spit out a piece of parchment once more. He grabbed it before it could go far, and he turned it reading the name. He stared at it for a moment, as every being in the Great Hall stared at him. He cleared his voice before announcing loudly, "Harry Potter."

Amy stared at him in shock, before turning to Harry, whose face was one that could only be described as surprise and incredulity. No one did anything except stare at Harry.

After a moment of silence, Dumbledore called out, "Harry Potter! Harry! Up here, if you please!" Amy watched as Hermione pushed him from his seat, and he stumbled forward towards Dumbledore. "Well… through the door, Harry," he said. Amy watched as Harry walked dizzily towards the side door, and once he had gone through it, she stood, along with many of the other teachers. Bagman slipped towards the door as Dumbledore concluded the feast.

"Well," Dumbledore started, "Now that our champions have been picked, you should all be off to bed. Good night all." Dumbledore turned in a swirl of fabric, before rushing towards the side door, followed closely by Amy, Crouch, Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, McGonagall, and Snape.

They hurried down a corridor filled with portraits, bursting into the room where the four students and Ludo Bagman stood.

"Madame Maxime!" the French girl cried. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!" Amy looked at Harry, whose face showed a flash of agitation.

Madame Maxime turned away from her student and towards Dumbledore. "What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she questioned.

Karkaroff broke in. "I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," he started. Amy looked at him, and saw that his eyes were frozen through. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions – or have I not read the rules carefully enough?" He laughed viciously. Amy glared at him, but he took no notice.

"C'est impossible," Maxime continued. "'Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. It is most injust."

Karkaroff began to speak once more, and Amy moved closer to Harry, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He looked at her, and she smiled at him. "I know you didn't do it," she whispered, and he nodded looking relieved that someone believed him. Amy turned her attention back to the conversation at hand just as Snape spoke up.

Snape was not someone she was particularly fond of. He had an oily way of speaking to her, almost as is he looked down on her, and he couldn't stand to spend more than a few minutes in a room with her.

"It's no one's fault but Potter's Karkaroff," Snape started, glaring at Harry and Amy in turn. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here-"

"And what about your students, Severus?" Amy question angrily. Snape looked at her. "I've seen them break just as many, if not more rules, as Harry. Harry didn't do this. Maybe you should get to know your students before judging them. Especially if you're judging them by their parents."

Snape's black eyes flashed viciously, opening his mouth to retort. "Thank you Severus, Amy," Dumbledore interrupted firmly, nodding at each of them in turn. As Dumbledore turned to Harry, Snape glared at Amy, a glare which she held.

Dumbledore spoke now only to Harry. "Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked.

"No," Harry replied evenly.

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" Dumbledore questioned. Amy felt Harry's shoulders tense, restraining himself from shouting his innocence.

"_No,"_ he replied again more forcefully.

"Ah, but of course 'e his lying!" interrupted Maxime.

"He could not have crossed the Age Line," McGongall retorted sharply. "I am sure we are all agreed to that –"

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz se line," Maxime hypothesized.

"It is possible, of course," Dumbledore replied. Amy released a breath of frustration, and everyone turned towards her.

"Professor, you know that you made no such mistake! Really this is ridiculous! Harry obviously did not cross the line himself, and he swears that he didn't ask any older student to submit his name either. If he's able to convince Professor Dumbledore of this, than it should be good enough for all of you!" Amy cried angrily, McGonagall nodded her agreement to this, looking pointedly at the foreign heads and Snape.

Karkaroff turned to the Ministry employees. "Mr. Crouch… Mr. Bagman, you are our – er – objective judges. Surely you can agree that this is most irregular?" he demanded.

Amy listened as Crouch and Bagman explained the rules, both of them concluding that Harry must play because all names that come from the Goblet are locked in a magical contact. Amy tried to control her frustrated breathing as everyone argued amongst each other, while Harry and the other champions stayed quiet.

Professor Moody entered the fray, demanding their attention. As he argued amongst them, he turned to Potter. "It's very simple. Someone put Potter's name in that goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."

"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!" interrupted Maxime.

"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," Karkaroff implored, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards-"

Moody broke in. "If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," Moody growled.

"Why should 'e complain?" burst Fleur. "'E 'as ze chance to competer, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our school! A thousand Galleons in prize money - zis is a chance many would die for!"

"Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die for it," Moody growled, looking at the French girl who backed away.

Silence hit for a moment, before the argument ensued again. Amy watched as Karkaroff sneered at Moody, taunting him about his paranoia of the world.

Moody interrupted him saying, "There are those who'll turn innocent occasions to their advantage. It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Karkaroff - as you ought to remember…"

Amy looked at Karkaroff, who had gone very pale, as Dumbledore reprimanded Moody, before turning back to the officials in the room. "How this situation arose, we do not know," he started. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do..."

"Ah, but Dumbly-dorr," Maxime implored pleadingly.

"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it," Dumbledore said, ending the conversation. Bagman now stepped towards the champions, explaining the rules and guidelines to them. As he bid them good night, Amy gripped Harry's shoulder once more, before releasing him. The champions exited the room, first Maxime and Fleur, followed by Karkaroff and Krum, and in the back Harry and Cedric, who walked away in silence.

Amy sighed heavily, before turning back to the professors. They all had stony looks on their faces and none of them knew exactly what to say. Snape walked past Amy, heading towards the door without a sound, followed by McGonagall, who bid them all good night.

Amy turned to leave as well, rubbing her forehead in frustration. "Professor Wyman?" Dumbledore asked. Amy turned to him. "Could you send Charlie Weasley a letter asking if it would be possible to send four dragons instead of three?" He looked her in the eye.

"Of course Professor," she answered. "Good night." As she turned, Dumbledore uttered a farewell, and she thought he sounded older than ever. As she exited the chamber, Amy leaned against the cool stone wall. She rubbed her hands over her eyes. "This is not going to end well," she whispered before leaving the empty and dark Great Hall.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Alright, very long chapter... longest I've ever written probably! Ha! Anyway next chapter should be up around tomorrow... umm... it'll probably have Charlie! So yay! Oh, and if there is someone who's reading this, could you send a review? I just want to know if I should stop this before I embarrass myself too badly..

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: **Hey guys! Here's the next chapter! I figure I better just keep putting them out, because I'm leaving for vacation next week, and the place I'm staying doesn't have any internet. Anyway here's the next chapter! And there's plenty of Charlie in it. I know some of you may be thinking that things are moving a little fast between the two, but it's... attraction at first meet I guess...

**AN2: **Sorry to anyone who gets a double alert about two chapter sixes, but I completely forgot about the dedication until after I hit the publish button... gorsh... anyway... dedication...

**Dedication:** This chapter's dedicated the real life Michelle, Georgie, and Katherine. I love you guys, and am going to miss you so much next year! 3 Ellie

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything.

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><p>The next week passed by gruelingly, and during those seven days Hogwarts was transformed. The Hufflepuffs, Slytherins, and Ravenclaws were all pitted against the Gryffindors, upset that Harry had once again stolen their limelight. But it wasn't that Amy was bothered over. It was the fact that some of the Gryffindors had turned against Harry as well, including Ron Weasley.<p>

Ron had taken to ignoring Harry and to sneering at him behind his back. It made Amy feel slightly sick at the fact that such good friends could turn on each other in a moment.

Harry tried to ignore it, but it was hard when every corner he rounded someone flashed a Support Cedric Diggory badge. Amy had banned them from her classroom, and had in her frustration had started to take away points from students who had them near her classroom. It infuriated her that the students in this school turned against one another so quickly. It disgusted her.

"Harry!" Amy called one day, after a particularly nasty class. He turned to face the teacher. "Would you mind staying after for a moment?" Harry turned back to Hermione, who had turned to wait for him, waving her off, before approaching Amy's desk.

"Yes Professor?" he asked, straightening his bag. Although he was trying to hide it, she could tell he was slightly nervous. Obviously the past week of sneers and remarks had started to get to him.

"It's nothing bad Harry," Amy assured him. "I just wanted to see how you were holding up." Harry looked at the young professor, and he shrugged.

Amy laughed, a look of surprise crossing Harry's face.

"Professor?" he questioned.

"I'm sorry," Amy apologize. "It's not funny, I know that. It's just," she hesitated, "I find laughing at a situation, even one that is as humorless as this, makes it better." Harry still looked uncertainly at the professor. "I know it doesn't seem like that's right, but I promise you, laughing makes it better."

"Right," Harry said unevenly. "Bye Professor." He walked towards the door, and Amy watched him leave.

"Harry," she called once more. He sighed before turning back to her. "You're not alone in this. There's always going to be someone here to help you." Harry nodded, before leaving to think in the silence of her classroom.

It was late in the evening when a knock resounded through Amy's office. She looked up from her papers, waving her wand towards the Muggle radio (which she had charmed to play from a Muggle radio station) silencing the music.

"Yes?" Amy looking back at the papers she was grading. As the door opened, Amy looked up before standing and straightening her shirt. "Good evening professor."

"I do hope I am not interrupting you Professor," Dumbledore greeted. Amy shook her insistently. "Excellent. I wonder if I could borrow a moment of your time."

"Of course professor." Amy leaned against the front of her desk, as Dumbledore moved to the middle of the room.

"I was wondering if you had heard from Charlie Weasley about the first task." Dumbledore questioned, looking around Amy's office.

"Yes, he said it would be no trouble sending another dragon as long as the Ministry approved, which Mr. Crouch assured me they had," Amy replied, watching Dumbledore examine the pictures on her wall.

"Excellent," he remarked turning away from the wall and towards Amy. "I would like to ask your opinion of him."

"My opinion of him Professor?" Amy asked, not entirely sure why he was asking.

"Well, you've met most of his siblings," Dumbledore began, "So, I was wondering what you thought of him compared to them."

"Oh, um, okay," Amy started, still not sure why he was asking this. "He's very um kind, I guess. And he seemed quite intelligent, but again why are you asking this professor?"

"Just curious is all," he replied loftily. "Well, good night Miss Wyman."

"Good night professor," Amy replied, slightly confused. She shook her head, turning back to her desk.

"Miss Wyman?" Amy turned back around. Dumbledore was facing the wall again, looking at one of the pictures on the wall. "Do you mind my asking about this picture?" He gestured to one of the framed photographs on the wall. Amy stepped closer to it, but she already knew which one it was.

Unlike many of the photos on the wall, this one was unmoving, and depicted three young girls, around the age of six or so. They were all dressed in bright colored dresses and had huge smiles on their faces, showing off their toothless grins. Amy smiled softly, before looking towards the professor next to her.

He pointed to the girl in the middle, who wore a blue dress and had short curly hair. "This is you is it not?" he questioned looking at the younger professor. Amy nodded.

"Yes that's me. The girl on the left is Georgie Kotas and the girl on the right is Katherine Russell. They and another girl, Michelle, are the only ones, beside my family, who know I'm a witch. Then again, they're practically family anyway." Amy smiled softly at the memory.

Dumbledore stepped away from the wall.

"Well, good night again Miss Wyman," he said, sweeping his hand in an upright bow. He left the room, leaving Amy staring at the wall of photos.

It was the eve of the twenty-fourth, and Amy could practically feel the nerves that were running through the champions. The champions had taken to not eating, and several of them had secluded themselves to the library, stocking up in knowledge before the first task. Amy had a feeling that they knew about the dragons, although she wasn't very surprised.

The dragons had arrived two weeks earlier and had been hidden away in the forest with several dragonkeepers, Charlie Weasley being one of them. Amy hadn't seen any of the dragons yet, but late at night, when she was unable to sleep, she could sometimes hear the distant roar of one of them in the quiet night.

It was after lunch that Harry and Hermione approached her, asking if they could use her classroom. Amy had her ideas what they needed it for, and her suspicions were proved correct during the tournament the next day.

The next morning, Amy walked down to the Quidditch pitch with everyone else. Everyone was cheering and shouting, eager for the start of the first task. Amy soon found herself seated with the other teachers.

"This certainly is exciting," Professor Sprout was saying to Amy. Before she could respond however a voice broke in.

"Sorry to interrupt professors," said a deep voice. The teachers turned around to see Charlie Weasley smiling at them.

"Mr. Weasley!" Sprout said. "It's has been a while!" Charlie laughed lightly.

"Yes, Professor it has," he agreed before turning to Amy. "Professor Wyman."

"Charlie," Amy smiled. Sprout glanced between the two before turning to the professor next to her. Charlie slipped into the seat next to Amy.

"So," he started, "Excited?" Amy glanced at him. It had been several months since she had seen him, and even then it had been in the dark. She could now see that in the light, his hair was closer in color to the Twins than Ginny or Ron, but his eyes were the same color. He had a slight beard, though nothing extreme, just a bit of hair on his strong jaw. He was, however, just as muscled as she remembered him. All in all, he was attractive to say the least.

"To watch a bunch of students get burnt to a crisp?" Amy questioned incredulously. She turned to face the Quidditch pitch. "No, not exactly." Charlie laughed.

"They won't get burned," he said. Amy turned to him, a slender eyebrow raised. "Badly," he added sheepishly. Amy laughed, shaking her curly hair, and Charlie laughed with her, looking at her from the corner of his eye. Unlike the last time he had seen her, she was wearing jeans and a sweater, and her hair was down, falling in waves of a mixed brown and red glaze. She wore no make up, or very little, and Charlie found that she was even prettier in the day time than she was at night.

"You know I never got a chance to ask this last time," Charlie started, "but you're not from here, are you?"

Amy looked at him. "What gave it away?" she asked sarcastically. Charlie laughed, surprised that any Hogwarts teacher could have a sense of humor.

"Okay," Charlie laughed. "I get it, stupid question. Let me rephrase that. Where are you from?"

"America," she replied, laughing at the face that Charlie made. He stared at her a little longer before she cracked.

"Chicago, it's one of the big cities," she said. Before Charlie could reply, Bagman's voice roared through the pitch. The two turned to face the pitch, where the first task was about to begin.

"Good Morning ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the first task in the Triwizard Tournament! Our champions and judges are ready so let's begin! First up, is Mr. Cedric Diggory!" Amy craned her neck to look for Cedric, who entered the field through a tunnel. "Mr. Diggory will be fighting against the Swedish Short-Snout, and his task is to get passed his dragon and collect the golden egg!" The crowd roared in excitement, cheering and jumping up and down.

Cedric brandished his wand towards the dragon, sending sparks at it. The dragon roared at him, flames rushing from its throat towards Cedric, who rolled away from the flames, darting behind a rock.

"Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow," Bagman commented, as the crowd cheered on the Hogwarts champion. Cedric leaned over the side of the rock shooting out sparks again, trying to draw the dragon's attention away. The dragon turned for a moment, and Cedric rushed from behind the rock, running furiously around the edge of the arena, trying to stay out of the eyesight of the Swedish Short-Snout. "He's taking risks, this one!" Ludo cried, as the dragon caught sight of Cedric for a moment, whipping around, his mouth open shooting flames at the seventh year.

Again, Cedric tried to distract the dragon, shooting a flock of canaries from his wand, which flew towards the dragon, and in an instant were burned. "_Clever _move – pity it didn't work!"

Cedric ducked, pointing his wand towards a rock and shouting words that were lost in the roar of the crowd. The rock morphed slowly into a yellow Labrador, which began to bark immediately, drawing the attention of the dragon. As the creature focused on the dog, Cedric ran towards the eggs, grabbing the golden egg, just as the dragon turned spitting a ray of flames at Cedric, who ducked a second too late, and the sleeve of his shirt caught fire.

Immediately, three dragon keepers jumped forward, shooting stunning spells at the Swedish Short-Snout, who immediately fell forward, before vanishing as the dragonkeepers prepared to bring in the next one. Cedric, who had put his sleeve out by now, raised the hand with the egg in the air, waving it at the crowd who screamed and cheered at his success. Cedric turned to the judges, who were preparing to show his score. Madame Maxime went first, shooting an eight into the sky, followed by Crouch with a seven, Dumbledore with an eight, Bagman with an eight, and Karkaoff with a seven.

Charlie turned to Amy. "See," he said teasingly, "He's not burned that badly." Amy laughed with him, smiling and biting her lip gently. They turned back to the stadium as Fleur entered, but continued to sneak glances at the other during Fleur's task.

Fleur used her wand to put the dragon into some kind of trance, but before she was able to grab the egg, the dragon awoke and set her skirt a fire. She put it out quickly before lunging for the egg. Before the dragon could shoot another ball of fire, the dragonkeepers stunned the dragon.

As Fleur received her score, a 35, the dragonkeepers brought in the next dragon, a Chinese Fireball. As Krum began, Amy turned to Charlie. "Why aren't you down there helping?" she asked. Charlie glanced at her before turning back towards the stadium.

"It really only takes two or three at most to control a dragon. Although I might go help for the last dragon," he informed her, watching as Krum dived away from the dragon.

"Harry's dragon, right?" Amy questioned, looking at Charlie with worry. He glanced at her again.

"He has the Hungarian Horntail," Charlie told her. Amy looked at him, obviously having no knowledge on what this meant. "Hungarian Horntails are horrible even in the best conditions, and I wouldn't call these good conditions." Amy nodded in understand before looking back towards the stadium. Charlie could see the worry in her eyes, and he gripped her hand for a second. She looked down at their connected hands before up into Charlie's eyes. "Don't worry. Harry knows how to get out of a bad situation." He squeezed her hand, before releasing it. Amy stared at her empty hand for a moment, missing the warmth of his hand, before turning back to the stadium just as Krum grabbed the golden egg.

He was seemingly unharmed, but Amy noticed that some of the real dragon eggs were not. Charlie grumbled at that, because the champions weren't supposed to damage the real eggs. Nevertheless, the guards stunned the raging Fireball as the judges gave Krum his score. Karkaroff gave him a ten (blatant favoritism) taking off no points despite the fact that he had crushed real eggs. In the end, Krum earned a total of 40 points. Karkaroff grinned smugly, glancing up towards Amy and winking. She squirmed uncomfortably in her seat, which Charlie took note of. Before he could say anything though, Harry entered the arena and the crowd jumped to their feet.

Amy smiled as the Gryffindor students, along with the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, jumped up cheering for the second Hogwarts champion. Harry approached the center of the pitch where his dragon was sitting. It roared at him, sending a stream of flames at him. He dived, before raising his wand and shouting, "_Accio Firebolt!" _He stood there for a moment, looking around him. The crowd was silent for a moment, before the silence was broken by the whistling of something moving through the air at high speed. The crowd looked around, breaking out into cheers as a broom flew through the air, stopping next to Harry. Harry jumped onto his broom, flying up, up, up drawing the dragon's attention to him.

As he was flying higher, Harry stopped suddenly, before flying close to the dragon, out of its flame reach but close enough to keep himself in its eyesight. He would fly closer to the dragon before hurriedly flying away, finally achieving his goal. The dragon, who had grown tired of missing this flying target, beat its wings a few times, pushing itself off the ground and into the sky. The second her claws left the feet, Harry dove towards the ground, flying under the dragon's wings and straight to the eggs. Harry reached his hands out, grabbing the golden egg from the pile of real eggs. As the crowd broke out into roaring cheers, Harry pulled out of his dive just as the Horntail turned, snarling out a ball of flames, which grazed Harry's shoulder, before being stunned by the dragonkeepers.

Charlie jumped to his feet cheering with everyone else. Amy smiled at him before standing and clapping. Harry landed on the arena, stumbling slightly while holding up the golden egg. As the judges calculated their scores, the school healer, Madam Pomfrey, ushered Harry off to a tent.

Charlie turned to Amy. "See," he said again. "Out of the four of them, only three were burned!" Amy laughed loudly. As she was about to say something, the crowd began to cheer again. Harry had re-entered the arena. Amy was pleased to see that Ron was standing next to him, and she hoped that they had put their argument behind them. Harry turned to the judges, who raised their wands. An eight, a nine, a nine, a ten, and a four.

The crowd booed as Karkaroff lowered his wand, and Amy glared at him. "A four?" Charlie asked in disbelief. "Is he insane?" Mentally, Amy calculated his score, finding that in the end, even with Karkaroff's biased judging, Harry still tied with Krum for first place with forty points. Charlie interrupted Amy before she could reply. "Excuse me, my Mum asked me to talk to Harry before I left." Charlie turned and was down the steps before Amy could say a word. She watched as he disappeared into the crowd, disappointed that he hadn't really said good-bye. Amy shook her head at this thought, before following the rest of the crowd out of the Quidditch pitch and towards the castle.

It had begun to drizzle slightly, and in the sky there were distant storm clouds, lightning and thunder already brewing inside them. As it began to rain harder, Amy wrapped her arms around her thin sweater, internally scolding herself for not wearing a thicker shirt. As she neared the castle, it began to rain harder, and her hair stuck to her face, causing her to sigh in annoyance while pushing the hair away.

"Amy! Amy, hold on!" a voice cried. Amy turned around to see Charlie Weasley running towards her. The rain had soaked through his already tight shirt, drenching him from head to foot. Amy's eyes lingered on the taunt muscles in his shoulders before looking up into his eyes, not wanting him to see her checking him out. "Hey," he said once he had reached her. "I didn't get a chance to say good bye." Amy laughed again, before stopping. He was staring at her intently, his eyes never leaving her face. He reached a hand up to push away the wet strands of hair from her face, his hand brushing ever so slightly against her skin. She shivered, but not from the rain at all. She looked him in the eye, something hidden behind his blue irises. Something stirred inside of Amy, and she restrained herself from doing anything embarrassing.

"See you soon then," he said abruptly, pulling away from her and taking a few steps back. Amy looked at him in confusion, before shaking her head to clear her thoughts.

"Right," she said unevenly. "See you soon." She stepped back shakily before turning around. She shook her head of any thought that was running through her head, before beginning to run towards the school, trying to escape the rain, which had started to pour. Charlie stared at her the entire way up the castle, admiring the way her wet hair was still curled slightly, and the way her sweater clung to her body. He turned away once she entered the school and walked down the now empty path.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Hoped you guys liked it! There were some quotes from the book, but most of it wasn't! Review please! Oh, and hope you liked the Charlieness in the chapter! (Karkaroff is kind of a creep isn't he? And instead of going with the white beard/old guy version of him, for this story, for this story he's going to look like the movie version of him.)

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	7. Chapter 7

**AN:** Woosh, two chapters in one night! Wowzah! Haha, this is the Yule Ball Chapter! Woot Woot! So here we go. Oh, it follows the movie version, rather than the book version, because the book version didn't go with my vision... yeah...

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything you recognize.

**Dedication:** To all my readers... although I may only have two... so... To _sarcasmwasmile _and to _ILuvKellanForever!_ Here's to you! Thanks for the review! Haha... that rhymed...

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><p>Over the next week, the students at Hogwarts could talk of nothing but the first task. They were all still in awe over how amazing it had been, and how awesome it was to see a real life dragon. However, as the weeks passed, the students grew bored of retelling the story over and over, wishing something new would pop up for them to discuss. The teachers did not disappoint.<p>

During her classes, Professor McGonagall announced to the students that Hogwarts would be hosting a Yule Ball, which, from what Amy gathered, was simply a dance on Christmas Eve. It was really nothing special to Amy, for she had grown up going to dances at her muggle school, but to every girl in Hogwarts, it was a reason to sit and giggle in corners, discussing dresses, hairstyles, and, of course, dates.

It was hilarious to Amy the way that the girls whispered and giggled, before falling silent every time a male passed them, all of them dreaming that they would be asked to be that male's date. It was however unfortunate for the fourth year boys, who found themselves unsure of what do or even how to ask a girl out. Amy constantly stumbled upon boys fumbling over their words when attempting to ask a girl out as she walked from her class to the Great Hall.

Amy didn't think much about the ball, except when laughing at the girls' antics or pitying the boys, who were so nervous. Her mother had requested that she come home for Christmas, because she hadn't had any time off for Thanksgiving, something that Amy's mother had been very upset about. Amy agreed, seeing as she'd much rather be at home with her mother's cooking, than sit around and watch a bunch of hormonal teenagers try to feel each other. She had enough of that during _her_ teen years. It seemed however, that Professor McGonagall disagreed with that assessment.

Amy had been working her way to her office when Professor McGonagall had chased her down. "Professor Wyman! Professor Wyman!" she called down the crowded hall. Amy stopped, adjusting her side bag, while she waited for the older professor to reach her.

"Can I help you Professor McGonagall?" Amy inquired, looking at the highly respected teacher.

"Yes actually," McGonagall answered. "You can attend the Yule Ball and stay up with the students to ensure they all arrive back at the dorms on time." Amy stared at the teacher, her mouth open in surprise. McGonagall looked at her. "That isn't a problem if I am correct?" she asked, staring Amy down.

"Actually Professor," Amy started, "It is a bit-"

"Excellent!" McGonagall broke in. "I expect to see you in the Great Hall by 8 o'clock. And please don't wear your usual attire. Try for something more elegant." McGonagall swept away, moving through the crowd of students expertly.

"Wait!" Amy cried after her. "Professor McGonagall! I can't!" The older teacher took no notice of this, ignoring the younger teacher's cries. "Damn," Amy muttered. "Mom's going to kill me." She sighed, rubbing a hand tiredly across her face. "At least I don't need a date."

...

"You mean you're not angry?" Amy asked incredulously into the fire.

"Of course not!" her mother cried. The second Amy had turned of age, she had hooked her parents up to the Floo Network, to make it easier to keep in contact with them. "You never had a prom because of the Academy, so here's a chance for you to get all dressed up!"

"Mom this is not prom," Amy repeated. She was surprised her mother wasn't more upset about this.

"I know that Amy," her mom said, as though speaking to a child, "But I still expect at least one picture." Amy rolled her eyes.

"Yes mom," she said, "But aren't you the least bit upset that I won't be there for Christmas Eve?"

"As long as you're here for Christmas Day, it doesn't really matter!" her mom assured her. "You can just evaporate here when you're done."

"Evaporate?" Amy asked, trying to figure out what her mom meant. "What are you talking about?"

"You know," her mom specified. She stepped away from the fire, before spinning around in a circle. She gripped the chair next to her to keep herself from falling over. Amy burst out into laughter.

"I think you mean apparate Mom," Amy laughed.

"Whatever," her mom replied, seating herself near the fire again. "I really don't mind as long as you can stay for the rest of winter break." Amy nodded slowly.

"Alright Mom, if you say so," Amy began.

"Trust me, I do say so," her mom broke in. Amy laughed.

"Alright, alright," Amy concluded, "I should go. I'll see you next week Mom."

"See you then baby," her mom agreed. "Love you."

"Love you too Mom," Amy said pulling herself from the green flames. _'Well,'_ Amy thought, '_I was not expecting her to take it that easily.'_ Amy thought for a moment before snorting. _'This is probably going to be exactly like prom.'_

_..._

The night of the Yule Ball arrived, and Amy found herself seated on her bed, trying with all her might to get her shoes on. Frustrated, she tugged on the strap of the heel, dropping her foot in relief when the strap finally slid on. "I hate heels," she muttered. Shaking her head, loose curls falling into her face, Amy stood up, glancing at the clock on her nightstand. 7:45.

'_I should head down,'_ Amy thought, grabbing a shawl from her chair. '_Before McGonagall bites my head off for being late.'_ Amy closed the door to her room, walking down the empty hall. She could hear faint strains of music from the Great Hall, and the sounds of people talking amongst themselves. As she walked down the stone steps, Amy gripped the railing, fearing that she would fall in the damn heels that she was wearing. As she approached the ball, the halls around her became more decorative, feature sprigs of mistletoe and garland, adding to the festive air.

Amy rounded the final corner finding herself at the entrance to the school. It was very much like the first day she had arrived, the halls were empty and the pictures still moved and conversed amongst themselves. Except instead of jeans, she was wearing a gown and it was nowhere near as quiet, despite the fact that the halls were empty.

As she drew closer, Amy saw the four champions lined up outside the hall with their dates as Professor McGonagall ushered the rest of the students inside the hall. "Evening Professor," Amy greeted as she reached the line of champions. Harry turned with his date (one of the Patil twins, although Amy wasn't sure which one), as well as Krum's date who Amy recognized to be Hermione Granger, although she looked nothing like her normal bushy haired self but instead an elegant young lady with sleek hair. Amy smiled broadly at them, before turning back to McGonagall, who was frowning at the younger professor.

"I was beginning to think you wouldn't show up," she informed Amy. Amy laughed lightly.

"Well, I'm here," Amy said, shrugging her shoulders. "Where would you like me?"

"Inside," was McGonagall's firm answer, ending the conversation, as she turned back to the champions, speaking now only to them.

"Right," Amy muttered. Harry glanced over McGonagall's shoulder, grinning at the Charms professor, who waved back, before entering the Great Hall. Amy, with the help of Professor McGonagall, had worked tirelessly on the decorations; charming frost to stick around the hall surrounded by mistletoe and ivy that crossed across the ceiling. Amy worked her way through the crowd, moving towards the front of the hall where the three heads of houses were standing.

As she moved through the crowds, Amy passed by a young man dressed in black dress robes. She walked by him without a second thought, not noticing the man. He, however, stared after her, watching as she stood beside Professor Dumbledore, who greeted her jovially. The dress she wore swished around the bottom of her feet, the color of the fabric, which was some kind of silk or satin, contrasted against her pale skin, and her curls, which had been pulled away from her face with a sparkly white clip, complimented the outfit. From where he stood, he could see the sparkles of her make-up, he thought that she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, something he noticed, that had not been missed by Professor Karkaroff, who was leering at Amy very obviously. Clouded with a new feeling, he began to walk towards her.

As he moved through the crowd, the champions also entered the hall, walking towards the middle of the dance floor. In the distance, he heard a mournful tune begin. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the champions begin to move across the floor, waltzing to the music.

The man was several feet away, when Karkaroff made his move, holding his hand out to Amy, who took it, looking nervously around her. He stopped in his tracks, watching as Karkaroff practically pulled her on to the dance floor, placing a gnarly hand around her waist, and gripping her other hand tightly in his. She hesitantly placed her hand on his shoulder, and he took the lead, dancing with her through the steps, holding her a little closer than necessary.

As they revolved, Karkaroff spun her around near the edge of the crowd, Amy caught sight of red, and when she was firmly back in the arms of Karkaroff, she looked over his shoulder, looking for the red head of hair she had just seen when Karkaroff's hands gripped her waist, lifting her into the air with every other girl. His grip was tight on her waist, but Amy still felt his hands slip against the silkiness of her dress. She pressed her hands into his shoulders as she slipped from his grip. She had no time prepare her legs for the drop, and she expected herself to crash to the floor. Instead, a warm pair of arms wrapped around her waist, keeping her suspended in midair for a moment before placing her back on the ground.

Amy breathed a sigh of relief, waving off Karkaroff who was apologizing to her insistently, assuring him that she was perfectly fine. No one seemed to have noticed the small mishap for the music had changed from its waltz into a livelier song and many of the students had joined into the dance. Assuring Karkaroff that she was fine, Amy turned to face the person who had saved her from potential embarrassment.

She found herself having to look up, finally finding the face of her savior. "Charlie!" She exclaimed, consciously reaching up to fix a stray curl. "I didn't know you were going to be here!"

Charlie laughed lightly, looking Amy up and down inconspicuously. "I didn't know I was going to be here either really," he replied, "but I received an invitation from Professor Dumbledore just yesterday." As the two talked, they moved towards the edge of the Great Hall, not wanting to be stuck having a conversation surrounded by sweating teenagers.

The two spent the next hour or so conversing, talking about the tournament and what was expected to come. They finally strayed towards the subject of the Yule Ball.

"It certainly looked like you were having fun out there earlier," Charlie informed her slyly, nodding towards the dance floor, which had emptied a bit as students strayed off to find snacks or a quiet corner. Amy let out an unladylike snort.

"No, not exactly," Amy laughed, Charlie joining in.

"So what are you doing for the rest of the holidays?" Charlie inquired. "Are you going to stick around at Hogwarts?"

Amy shook her head, watching the students dance to one of the latest Weird Sister song. "No," she started, "My mom wants be back at home for Christmas. I was actually supposed to have left at the start of break, but Professor McGonagall volunteered me to help chaperone the Yule Ball, so here I am." Amy shook her head slightly, several loose curls falling from her bun and into her face. "I was expecting my Mom to kill me when I told her I wouldn't be there for Christmas Eve, but she just got all excited, saying she wanted pictures of me wearing a formal dress." Amy and Charlie laughed.

"I think she feels cheated that she never got to buy a dress for me," Amy explained. "I went to an all-girl school, so they couldn't exactly host a dance with only girls." Charlie laughed again. "So, what about you Charlie? What are your plans for the holidays?"

"Oh, well that's easy," Charlie said. "I'm going to the Burrow and Mum'll make a feast even though there will only be five of us instead of nine, and we'll eat until we feel like we're about to explode." Amy laughed.

"That's right," she said thoughtfully. Charlie turned to her. "There are still some Weasleys I haven't met."

"Well, we can change that," Charlie informed her standing up. "I'll be right back." Amy watched as he left, confused at what he meant. As he disappeared into the crowd, Amy turned around looking towards one of the tables nearby. Seated at the table were Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Harry was seated in between the others and seemed rather uncomfortable as Ron and Hermione seemed to be in the middle of an argument. Amy watched as Hermione stood up, yelling something at Ron before storming off. Moments later, Krum appeared at the boys' table, apparently looking for his date. He stayed for only a few moments, sharing a couple of words between the boys before turning around, drinks in hand, and continuing his search for Hermione.

As Viktor left the boys' table, Charlie reappeared with another red head in tow. The boys were bickering between each other, Charlie dragging the boy behind him.

"What are you doing Charles?" the other boy questioned. "I cannot leave my post! What would Mr. Crouch say?"

"Probably to shut up Weatherby," Charlie teased, dragging the much weaker boy along towards Amy. Amy laughed, standing up. As the boys arrived next to Amy, she took in the likeness of the two, the same red hair, same blue eyes. Charlie shoved the other boy in front of him, causing him to stumble slightly. He straightened, brushing imaginary lint from his suit. "Percy, this is Amy Wyman," Charlie introduced, "the new Charms teacher at Hogwarts.

"Amy," Charlie said, turning to her, "This is my dear younger brother, Percy." Amy refrained from giggling at Charlie's tone and held a hand out to Percy, who shook it stiffly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Percy," Amy assured him politely.

"Same to you," Percy began, "Now if you excuse me, I must be getting back to my job." Percy threw a dark look at Charlie, who smiled brightly back, before hurrying off into the dying down crowd.

"Well," Amy started, "He's different." Charlie laughed loudly.

"Yes, but he's still a Weasley," Charlie agreed, "Now, there's only three Weasleys you haven't met." Amy laughed along with Charlie. As the two laughed, the music changed from a fast paced song to a much slower tempo. As their laughter died down, Charlie turned to Amy, holding out a hand to her. "Care to dance?" he asked seemingly careless, glad that Amy missed the nervous tremble in his hand. Amy looked at him for a moment, before placing her hand in his, leading him to the dance floor.

Since it was likely to be one of the last songs of the night, many couples had returned to the dance floor, none of them noticing their Charms teacher and the redhead man. Charlie placed tentative arms around Amy's waist as she hesitantly put her arms on his shoulders. As the music played, the two swayed gently side to side, their gazes never met. Amy was content to stare awkwardly over his shoulder, as he stared down at the curls pressed to the back of her head, straining to be released from the confines of the glittery clip.

As the song ended, Amy pulled away from Charlie. "I should probably be going to bed," she started, "I have to leave pretty early, and I still haven't packed."

"Oh, right," Charlie agreed, "of course. Well, um good night Amy," he finished lamely.

Amy smiled softly. "Good night Charlie. Merry Christmas." Amy turned, walking towards the entrance of the Great Hall. She stopped after a few feet, turning back to Charlie. "By the way," she began, "Thanks."

Charlie stared at her. "For what?" he asked curiously. Amy bit her lip.

"For everything," she replied, smiling once more, before turning around and exiting the hall, leaving Charlie stand behind, grinning like an idiot.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Hope you guys enjoyed it! Hope I didn't disappoint you too badly... Anyway... next chapter probably won't have any Charlie, but you'll get to meet Amy's wacky family and her BFFs... soo...

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: **Hey ya'll! Here's the next chapter! Charlie isn't in it, but he is talked about. Ummm... yep... I was watching A Very Potter Musical, so there is a reference to it. Haha... so... yep...

**Dedication:** Again, this is dedicated to the real Michelle, Georgie, and Katherine! If you ever read this, I hope you think I depicted you right...

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything you recognize.

It was early the next morning when Amy left the castle. Even though Illinois was six hours behind, when she apparated Amy would arrive at the same time she had left Hogwarts, although Amy wasn't exactly sure how.

She threw the final piece of clothing into her bag, and flung it over her shoulder. Glancing around her room again, Amy shut the door behind her before hurrying down the empty halls. It had snowed heavily overnight and was up to Amy's knees, but she took little notice of it as she trudged outside. She was from Chicago after all.

When she reached the entrance gate to Hogwarts, she turned back towards the castle, looking at the windows, most of which had a warm, cheerful glow. Amy smiled at the castle, before turning and exiting the grounds, spinning almost immediately on the spot, the picture of her childhood home etched in her mind.

Amy held her breath as the air around her tightened, seemingly pulling her through a very small tube, before dropping her into her backyard, onto one of the many snow drifts that had accumulated. She pushed herself up, sinking into the soft snow. She pulled her bag out from under the snow, and dragged herself to the back door of the house. She removed her keys from the loop on her jeans, unlocking the door and stepping inside before the wind could blow in a pile of snow.

Amy shook off the snow, before running up the stairs to the door that separated her family from their upstairs neighbors. She opened the screen door before inserting her key in the top lock, pushing open the door into the warm house.

Immediately, her mother's fat, old Russian Blue, Oliver, wrapped himself around Amy's legs, meowing and pleading to be fed. "I know you've already been fed Ollie," Amy said, pushing the cat away from her with her wet shoe. "I'm not going to feed you again. You're fat enough." He meowed again, his large green eyes staring straight into Amy's pleadingly. Amy kneeled next to the cat, scratching him under his chin. "Not going to happen beastie." Ollie looked at her, before pulling away indignantly, leaving to find someone who would feed him.

Amy shut the back door, picking her bag up from the floor, and walked down the hall. Her brothers' room was open, as were her parents'; both of them empty, showing that they were already up and about. Amy continued down the hall, stopping by her old bedroom only to drop off her bag and remove her coat and boots. Once closing the door (she didn't trust Oliver in her room, he had a tendency to knock over her things), Amy walked into the dining room, which was stocked with all sorts of food, quiche, pies, fruit, cheese, meats, basically anything you could think of. She glanced around, finding her homemade stocking hanging from the same place it did every year. She took a step closer, still just as mesmerized by it now as she had been as a child.

"Oh my gosh!" a voice cried. Amy turned away from her stocking, only to find a mane of dark hair in her face. "Amy! It's been so long!" Amy wrapped her arms around her sister, squeezing her tightly. "You know you still owe me ten bucks, right?"

"Good to see you too, Rose," Amy muttered. Amy's older sister pulled away to be replaced by her mother, who nearly squeezed the life out of her. "Hey Mom," Amy gasped, patting her Mom gently on the shoulder. As her mom pulled away, Amy found herself stuck in between two men who hugged her tightly from both sides, lifting her off the ground.

"Alright, alright Rich, Eric, get off me!" Amy laughed. Her brothers dropped her back to the ground. Finally, Amy's Dad, Alan, came forward hugging her lightly. "Hey Dad," Amy said, glancing around. "So, can we eat now?" The family laughed, dragging Amy off, seating her on the couch and handed her a plate of food.

Amy listened as her family talked amongst themselves, shouting over the others to make themselves heard. She shook her head before taking a bit of a sausage and joining in.

…..

After unwrapping their gifts, Amy's family sat around, nibbling on the leftover food.

"So, Amy," Rose started, Amy turning to her. "What's this school like? Pigfarts right?" Amy snorted into her drink, wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her sweater.

"Hogwarts Rosie, HOG-WARTS," she stressed. Her sister, at least, had the dignity to look embarrassed. "And it's great, actually. The students are hilarious, and some of them actually care about learning," Amy broke off as her siblings broke off into mock gasps of surprise. Amy rolled her eyes before continuing, "But, I have to say this whole Triwizard Tournament has thrown everything off."

"Triwizard Tournament?" Rich asked before stuffing a small bunt into his mouth.

"Yeah," Amy explained, "It's some competition that they Ministry has set up. Basically, three magical schools get together and three champions, one from each of the schools, compete in a series of three tasks."

"Alright," my mom said, "That's pretty interesting though, isn't it?"

"Well, yes of course it is," Amy replied, "But everything's gone wrong. Only students who are of the legal age were supposed to be allowed to enter, and somehow, an underage student's name was entered, and there are now four champions instead of three. So, now most of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students think Hogwarts cheated so that we could have two students instead of just one."

"Well," Eric started, "Just don't let the fourth kid compete." He rolled his eyes as though he couldn't believe they hadn't thought of that.

"Once your name is entered," Amy spoke as though to a young child, "you have to compete. By submitting your name you are locked in a magical contract."

"Well, that sucks," Richard summed up. Amy laughed.

"Thank you for stating the obvious," Amy teased at her older brother, who stuck his tongue out at her.

"Oh," Amy's mom interrupted, "How was that ball last night?" Rose turned to Amy, her jaw hanging.

"You went to a ball?" she gasped. "Pictures, I want pictures! Like, right now!" Amy rolled her eyes.

"Okay Rose," Amy complied, "There were some cameras around, so I'm sure there's at least one picture of me somewhere. Although, I hope it's not one with Karkaroff," she added under her breath. Rose glanced at Amy suspiciously, but turned away nonetheless, drawing the family into a conversation about her favorite thing, herself.

….

Later in the day, when everyone had left the room, to sleep, eat, or play with their new gadgets, Rose approached her younger sister who was sitting on the couch, staring at her necklace and smiling.

"So," she started, plopping down onto the couch, "Any cute boys at Hogwarts?" Amy looked over at her sister, a face a mask of disbelief.

"Really Rose?" she asked. "They're all younger than me, and plus that's just weird, seeing as they are my students."

"Still," Rose persisted, "There's no cute teachers, or muscly guys with no shirts on working on the grounds? Nothing?" Rose watched her sister who blushed slightly. "Oh my gosh there is a muscly shirtless worker! Tell me more!"

Amy laughed. "He's not shirtless," she began, breaking off as realized that she had just admitted that there was someone. "Dammit Rose."

Rose laughed at her sister's obvious embarrassment. "So," she began, "Are you going to tell me about him? Or should I just start making guesses?"

Amy sighed, realizing that she had dug herself into a hole and that she better start pulling herself out of it. "His name's Charlie and he works with dragons, so I met him when he was at Hogwarts with the dragons for the first task."

"More," Rose demanded. Amy rolled her eyes.

"What are you fourteen?" she teased, before continuing on. "I don't know really. We talked at the first task, and then he was at the ball last night and…" Amy broke off, remembering the feel of his arms around her waist after Karkaroff had dropped her.

"And?" Rose pushed, eager for the details on this man.

"And we had, um, we had a really nice time," Amy finished lamely. Rose stared at her.

"That's really all I am going to get?" she demanded. Amy looked at her sister, nodding smugly, before standing up to join her brothers in a game of Clue. "That's not fair Amy!" Amy turned for a moment, flipping her sister off, before returning to the board game.

…..

The next day, Amy stood on the corner of one of Chicago's busy streets, a cup of hot chocolate in her hand, and the wind mussing up her already messy hair. She pulled back the sleeve of her coat to look at her watch. "Of course, they're late," she mused.

"AMY!" three voices cried out. She turned around to see three young women running towards her.

"Georgie! Michelle! Katherine!" she squealed pulling her friends into a giant hug. "I've missed you guys so much!"

"You've missed us?" Katherine asked, pulling away and brushing her blonde hair away from her face. "You've got an apartment in London and you've been living in Scotland! You have to tell us everything!" The girls linked arms, pulling Amy down the street, jabbering and chattering the entire way.

The girls had gone to kindergarten together, and from the moment they had met they had been inseparable. During their entire childhood, you never saw one without the others and the girls wouldn't have it any other way. Until Amy received her letter. Amy had been upset at first, torn apart by the idea of leaving her best friends, but the girls were thrilled for her, swearing to send her letters and packages with goodies, swearing never to tell a soul, and, most of all, swearing to remain friends. The girls went with Amy to see her off each year, and every year on her birthday, Amy received a package filled with candy and jokes, something that hadn't changed, even with Amy now working at Hogwarts.

"So Amy," Georgie said, twirling a dark lock of hair around her finger, "Any cute boys over there?" she winked before laughing, the other girls joining in.

"You and Rose are so alike," Amy noted, shaking her head. Georgie hands covered her chest in shock.

"How dare you compare me to your sister!" she joked. The girls laughed. "But really," Georgie asked, now serious. "Any cute boys?" Katherine and Michelle turned to Amy, eyebrows raised.

"Guys," Amy began slowly, "I am a teacher. The oldest of my students are seventeen, which isn't even the legal age. The only other guys at the school are old enough to my grandfather."

"Well that's a shame," Michelle commented, taking a sip from her cup.

"Yeah," Georgie said, "You could've set us up with someone." Amy looked away, and Katherine stared at her, trying to see pass the mask on Amy's face.

"You're lying," Katherine stated firmly. The girls turned to Katherine, who was nonchalantly drinking her coffee.

"W-What?" Amy stammered. "No, I'm not." She nervously began flicking her fingers.

"Amy Elizabeth Ann Wyman," Katherine stated, causing Amy to groan. "I've known you for fifteen years; I know when you're lying."

The three girls stared Amy down, who finally snapped. "Fine! Fine! Yes, there is a guy," she cried.

The three girls immediately bombed Amy with questions. "What's his name?" "Is he good-looking?" "Is he British?" "Does he have a brother?"

Amy rubbed her forehead in frustration. "Why? Why?" she begged looking up the sky. "Why am I friends with them?" The girls stopped their interrogation, glaring at Amy with an affronted look. Amy rolled her eyes.

"Just answer the questions," Michelle commanded. The girls nodded in agreement.

"Fine," Amy said giving in. "His name's Charlie, and well…"

"Is he hot?" Georgie broke in, her dark eyes locking onto Amy's light ones.

"Well," Amy started, "Um…"

"Oh my gosh," Georgie gasped. "He's like really hot isn't he?" Amy blushed, causing the girls to break out into giggles and laughter.

"Aw," Michelle cooed. "Amy's in looovvvee."

"Shut up Shelly," Amy snapped. "I'm not."

"Ohh, defensive aren't you," Katherine teased. Amy shoved her, sending the girls into another fit of hysterics, one that Amy soon joined in to. It was hard not to laugh, especially when she was with these girls.

….

The rest of the holidays, Amy split her time between her family and friends, not wanting her vacation to end, but knowing that she would need to go back to London eventually.

On the final day of her vacation, Amy stopped by Michelle and Katherine's apartment to say good-bye, knowing that Georgie would be there as well.

"Hey guys!" Amy said using the key from under the mat to open the door.

"Hey Amy!" they called from the kitchen. Amy removed her coat and scarf before walking into the kitchen. The girls were sitting around the island eating cereal and acting as though they had just woken up.

"You do know it's like two in the afternoon, right?" she inquired, taking the spoon from Michelle and taking a bite. They grumbled at her. "Ah, you guys have been out drinking until six in the morning again?"

"No," Katherine replied, laying her head on the table. "Only until 5:30." Amy snorted.

"Oh, yeah," she teased. "Big difference." She shook her head, laughing. "I just came to say good-bye before I left for Hogwarts."

"Oh," Georgie moaned. "Do you really have to?"

"Yes Georgie," Amy spoke slowly. "I really have to. I have to work in the morning, and by the time I get to London, it'll be eight o'clock."

"That's right," Michelle said, "they're like six hours ahead, right?"

"Yep," Amy stated, "and Professor Dumbledore requested that I be back in time for dinner."

"Dumbledore's the crazy old guy, right?" Katherine asked. Amy snorted.

"That's one way to describe him I guess," Amy laughed. "Anyway, I just dropped in to say good bye. I probably won't be able to visit again until the school term is over."

The girls dropped their bowls, rushing over to embrace their friend. "We'll miss you!" They chimed together. Amy laughed, squeezing them tightly.

"Alright, alright," Amy laughed, "I really need to go." The girls release her returning to their cereal. Amy waved good-bye before leaving the kitchen. As she opened the door, Georgie called out to her.

"Oh," she yelled. "The next time you drop by, you better have pictures of this Charlie, or you're not allowed in!"

"Georgie!" Amy heard Katherine and Michelle cry, followed by two smacks. Amy let out a laugh, before closing a door on the now arguing girls. Glancing around the hall to make sure it was empty, Amy turned on the spot, apparating from the apartment building and back to the entrance of Hogwarts.

Pushing through the gates, Amy entered the grounds, looking up at the snow covered castle. "Well," Amy said to herself, "It certainly is good to be back."

**AN:** Hope you enjoyed it! Next chapter should be... the evening she arrives back at Hogwarts, and probably the second task... yep... I appreciate reviews! Just thought I'd let you know...

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: **Hey guys! So here's the next chapter. Unfortunately, I might not be able to publish a new chapter everyday, because the storm last night fried my wireless internet router... I'm still going to keep writing, so that when the new router arrives I'll have all the chapters for the days I missed but they'll just be out later... sorry about that...

Anyway... Thanks for all the reviews! It's nice to know that someone is reading my story! Just so some of you know, I plan on keeping all the couplings the same, mostly because I like them.. so, unfortunately, none of the Amy's besties will end up with one of the Weasleys... but I have an idea for one of them... it's kind of based off one of them said to me (cough cough Michelle cough), so I might work that into the story alittle.. Anyway, on with the show!

**Disclaimer: I own nothing!**

**Dedication: To my reviewers!**

* * *

><p>As Amy entered the Great Hall, several students greeted her, including the Weasley Twins who offered her creamy custard, which she politely declined. She had heard from many students about these treats, and Amy found that she didn't want to start classes the next day as a bird of some sort. Nothing had really changed. Students were either working on last minute break assignments, or showing off their new Christmas gifts to their friends. It was refreshing to know that despite the week or so Amy had been gone, Hogwarts was still the same.<p>

As she passed the Gryffindor table, Harry waved at her, sending a friendly smile, which she returned, before he returned to a gloomy state between his two friends, who were acting rather awkwardly to each other. Amy rolled her eyes at the obvious teenage hormones and found her seat at the front table, surprised to see that Hagrid wasn't there. Amy looked around curiously for the friendly groundskeeper, before turning to Professor Sprout and starting a conversation.

It was obvious that the students were on an excitement low after the holidays, Amy noted from the way that no one was acting normally, but rather in a lethargic way, as though they had been on a candy rush and had just crashed. Amy didn't worry though. She was sure that once classes started again, the students would begin to get worked up for the second task that was to take place on February twenty-fourth.

Very few members of the staff knew what was to come in the second task, as it was being kept a secret so as to keep it a surprise. Amy knew the plan, seeing as they would be in need of one of her students, but she pushed these thoughts aside, as she dug into her first British dinner of the New Year.

…..

The next morning at breakfast, Amy noted again that Hagrid was missing from dinner, and it was quite obvious why this time. After finding that many of the students and teachers received the Daily Prophet, Amy had signed up to receive it as well. This morning it arrived as usual, being dropped off at her spot at the front table as she took her seat. Amy, however, was shocked when she unraveled it, the headlines catching her eye immediately.

DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE

Amy read hurriedly down the page, taking in the atrocious words that defaced the name of the beloved groundskeeper, Hagrid, making Amy seethe in rage. As she set down the paper, her hands shaking angrily, she noted that many students had huddled around their copies of the Prophet, gossiping and going on about this new information. She also found, adding to her anger that many of the Slytherins were laughing and joking over the front page.

She bit her tongue, calming herself before she exploded and ended up on the front page of the Prophet as "THE TEACHER WHO OVERREACTED TO STUDENTS READING A NEWSPAPER". Yeah, that would be good for her career.

…..

As Amy entered her classroom, she noticed that several students had arrived before her, and were reading the Daily Prophet as well. Her shoulders tensed slightly, but she shook her head trying to shake the anger out.

When the bell rang, and her class was seated, Amy began her announcements.

"First off," she started, "Welcome back! I hope you all had a great Christmas and New Years!" She began walking around the room, as she continued talking. "Now that we're back, we're going to be working hard so as to prepare you for your O.W.L.s." From across the room, Amy saw that two students were seated with their backs to her, bent over their desks, whispering to each other. As she approached them, she saw the lettering the Daily Prophet. "And lastly," Amy concluded loudly, from behind the two boys, who jumped at her voice, turning around quickly. "I would ask you all not to read the daily newspaper in my classroom. Especially," she added sharply, "as this morning's edition includes slander of a Hogwarts teacher." She glanced pointedly at the boy who shoved the paper into the bag, looking sheepishly up at his teacher. She raised an eyebrow slightly before returning to her desk, and instructing her class on the lesson she had prepared for them that day.

Amy's other classes went by similarly, welcoming the students back, talking about their lessons, and then, always finding someone who was reading the Daily Prophet. By the end of the day, Amy was exhausted by this routine, and had collected several copies of the newspaper from students who had tried to look at it when her back was turned. It disgusted her that some of the students were so quick to throw away previous impressions of someone over a ridiculously slanderous article.

Amy retired early that night, skipping dinner, choosing to instead burrow away in her room with a good book or two.

…..

The next few weeks passed in relative calmness. Hagrid returned to work, and the news began to quiet down, although Amy could tell that some of the students were already gearing up for the next task. Despite this new burning excitement, the weeks passed quietly. Quietly enough, that Amy was awoken immediately at the sound of arguing from outside her room.

Not bothering to check the time, Amy grabbed her robe and wand, throwing the robe on, before opening her door and stepping out of the room, her hand held aloft, already illuminated.

She found Professor Snape, who looked ridiculous in a large, gray nightshirt, and Argus Filch bickering between each other.

"Filch, I don't give a damn about that wretched poltergeist; it's my office that's-" Snape was saying lividly, before Amy interrupted them.

"Is it really the time to be arguing about Peeves?" she broke in tiredly. "I mean really, it's the middle of the night, can't you do this in the morning?"

"Professor Wyman!" Filch cried excitedly, holding out large golden egg, that Amy recognized from the first task, at her. "Peeves threw this down the steps! I was just telling Professor Snape here that we finally have the chance to have Peeves thrown out of Hogwarts for good."

"Filch," Amy implored. "It's the middle of the night, can't it wait until morn-" Amy broke off as a loud clunking echoed through the hall. The staff members turned to see that Professor Moody had joined them.

"Pajama party, is it?" he growled tiredly.

"The professors and I heard noises, Professor," Filch said immediately.

"Damn straight I did," Amy broke in. "You two were arguing about a poltergeist and an egg!" Filch continued as though he hadn't heard her.

"Peeves the Poltergeist, throwing things around as usual – and then Professor Snape discovered that someone had broken into his off-"

"Shut up!" Snape hissed to Filch, but it was too late. Moody took a step forward, before stopping his jaw dropping for a moment, before turning back to the professors.

"Did I hear that correctly, Snape?" Moody inquired quietly. "Someone broke into your office?"

"It's unimportant," Snape replied quickly. Amy glanced between the two professors, before a movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention. She saw just a bit of an ankle before it disappeared. She shook her unruly curls, blaming it on exhaustion.

"On the contrary," Moody hissed, "it is very important. Who'd want to break into your office?"

"A student, I daresay," Snape remarked. Again from the corner of her eye, Amy saw movement that drew her attention. She looked that way again, taking a slow step forward. As she moved forward, she was hit with a wave of perfume. Amy stepped back slightly, rubbing her nose, which had begun to tickle from the strong scent. She sneezed before returning to the conversation at hand, sparing a glance at the spot near her every once in a while.

"…students attempting illicit mixtures, no doubt…" Snape was saying.

"Reckon they were after potion ingredients, eh?" Moody asked. "Not hiding anything in your office, are you?" Amy's watched Snape's face harden.

"You know I'm hiding nothing, Moody," he said softly, "as you've searched my office pretty thoroughly yourself." Moody made a remark about an "Auror's privilege" and Dumbledore asking Moody to keep an eye on…

"Dumbledore happens to trust me" Snape broke in angrily. "I refuse to believe that he gave you orders to search my office!" Amy rubbed her face exhaustedly.

"Can you please continue this alpha male fight in the morning?" Amy pleaded. "I mean seriously! Do you really have to argue, this loudly, in the middle of the night, right outside my room? Really?" The men turned to her, obviously just remembering that she and Filch were there.

"Get back to bed Snape," Moody growled, turning away. "You've dropped something, by the way." Moody pointed a gnarled hand at a piece of parchment lying on the steps, several feet away. Moody froze for a moment, as Snape reached for it, a strange look on his face. "_Accio Parchment,"_ Moody spoke swiftly, the old paper flying into his hand. "My mistake. It's mine, must've dropped it earlier."

Amy shook her head, turning back to her room when she heard Snape mutter.

"Potter." Amy turned back to him.

"What?" she asked, looking at him as if he had gone insane.

"Potter!" he snarled indignantly. "That egg is Potter's egg. That piece of parchment belongs to Potter. I have seen it before, I recognize it! Potter is here! Potter, in his invisibility cloak!" Amy watched as Snape raised his hands and began to move around, waving his hands stupidly.

"You're insane," she concluded. "An egg and a piece of parchment, and it just has to be Potter!" She rubbed her face irritably. "What is it with you and this grudge against Potter?"

"Yes Snape," Moody commented. "I'll be sure to tell the headmaster how quickly your mind jumped to Harry Potter." Snape stopped his movements, his arms still held out.

"Meaning what?" Snape snapped.

"Meaning that Dumbledore's very interested to know who's got it in for that boy!" Moody cried, stepping towards Snape. "As am I… very interested." Moody's eye swiveled in its socket, locking onto Snape's cold black ones. They stared at each other for a moment, before Snape slowly lowered his arms.

"I merely thought," Snape spoke in forced calmness, "that if Potter was wandering around after hours again… it's an unfortunate habit of his… he should be stopped. For – for his own safety." Amy snorted slightly at Snape's obvious lie.

"Ah, I see," Moody whispered. "Got Potter's best interests at heart, have you?" They stared at each other for a moment, Filch squirming slightly, his cat meowing, and Amy sneezed again as another wave of perfume hit her.

"I think I will go back to bed," Snape spoke quietly.

"Best idea you've had all night," Moody agreed. He turned to Filch, who was clutching the golden egg tightly in his arms. "Now, Filch, if you'll just give me that egg."

"No!" he cried, tightening his grip. "Professor Moody, this is evidence of Peeves' treachery!"

"Just give him the damn egg," Amy cried. "Merlin, is it really that hard? Give him the damn egg and go back to bed! Good lord." Amy took a step forward, wrenching the cold and slightly damp egg from Filch's arms and shoving it into the arms of Moody. "Go!" She demanded pointing her arm away from her room. Snape crept down the steps, while Filch grumbled, staring longingly at the golden egg, before slowly moving away. "NOW!" He hurried passed the two professors, his cat racing after him.

Amy turned to Moody, who stared back at her. "Good night," she spoke forcefully, turning around to open her door. She stepped inside and shut the door with a snap, before slumping against it. "Stupid men," she muttered. "Arguing in the middle of the night," she continued as she trudged to her bed, falling face first into the soft pillows. "I have to do everything around here," she muttered before passing out.

…..

The day of the second tournament had arrived, and Amy found herself being dragged along with the rest of the school towards the lake where a fleet of boats were waiting to take the students and teachers to the second task.

Amy found herself seated in a boat with the Weasley Twins and their friend, Lee Jordan, who she remembered had been with them the first day that they had tried to "escape" from class. By the time they had arrived at the dock set in the middle of the lake, she was bent over in hysterics. Before any of them could leave the boats, a voice cried over their laughter.

"What are you two doing?" Amy looked up through her giggles to see Percy Weasley glaring down at them. "Stop harassing your teacher!" Amy burst into another fit of giggles, the boys chuckling with her. Percy reached a hand down to the professor, who grasped it, nimbly pulling herself onto the makeshift dock.

"Not going to offer us a hand as well Weatherby?" one of the Twins questioned, before climbing onto the dock.

"What kind of older brother are you?" Lee asked, following the first Twin up the dock.

"What kind of Head Boy are you?" the other twin gasped. "Wait, I'm sorry. I meant to say, what kind of Humongous Big-head are you?" The other boys broke out into laughter. Amy refrained herself from giggling before turning to Percy, whose face was a mask of indignation.

"How are you Percy?" Amy asked politely.

"Very well, thank you," he replied back stiffly. "Although, I would be better if Mr. Crouch was here, but he was unable to make it today."

Amy smiled lightly. "Such as shame," she spoke easily, moving away slowly away. "He's going to be missing out on a wonderful event." She waved good-bye heading to the teacher section of the dock, which sloped downwards towards the lake.

Three of the champions stood before the water, shivering in their swimming gear. Amy glanced around before turning to Professor McGonagall. "Where's Harry?" she questioned.

McGonagall looked around, a hint of nerves in her eyes. "I'm not sure," she began, "but he had better get here soon. Karkaroff and Maxime look as though they are about to explode with happiness." Amy glanced to the two heads; both had huge grins on their face, obviously ecstatic that Harry had not arrived yet. Amy also noted that Bagman was bouncing around, but rather from worry than excitement.

Suddenly, Harry burst through the crowd, breathing heavily. "I'm… here…" he gasped. He planted his hands on his knees, taking in deep gulps of air.

From behind her, Amy heard Percy cry out, "Where have you been? The task's about to start!" Harry spared him a glance before Bagman broke in.

"Now, now Percy! Let him catch his breath!" Bagman turned to Dumbledore who smiled at Harry. Karkaroff and Maxime didn't try to cover their disappointment at Harry's arrival, but instead glared at the gasping boy, who was still trying to regain his breath. Bagman turned back to Harry, whispering to him. Harry nodded his head, before pulling away and approaching the other champions, who spared him a glance, before nervously facing the dark waters again.

Amy watched as Bagman stared after Harry for a moment before pointing his wand at his own throat and saying, "_Sonorous!"_ His voice became magically magnified and he began to speak to the audience. "Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One… two…_three!"_

The audience burst into cheers as three of the champions ran into the water, despite the chill from the February weather. Harry, however, quickly removed his jacket, shoes, and socks before shoving something into his mouth and walking into the water. From behind her, Amy heard jeers from the Slytherins. Harry stopped when the water was at his waist, and he stood there for a moment, before he grasped his throat, feeling them in earnest, before diving into the water.

As minutes passed, the audience quieted down, realizing that this task was not going to be like the last one. Several students booed in disappointment, causing Amy to laugh.

"They can't expect dragons every time can they?" Amy laughed to Professor McGonagall, who gave her a smile.

"No matter how much a certain professor may wish that?" McGonagall mused slyly, glancing at the younger professor.

"P-Professor?" Amy sputtered embarrassedly. _'What did she-How… Did she know? _She watched as Professor McGonagall pulled out several photos.

"I've been holding onto these, waiting for an appropriate time to give them to you," she informed Amy, handing her the photos. "Now seems as good a time as any." McGonagall turned away from the still in-shock professor and towards Professor Sprout, striking up a conversation.

Amy turned the photos over, red beginning to creep up her face. The pictures were from the Yule Ball, and almost all of them were of her and Charlie, except for a few which featured her by herself or with Karkaroff.

She flipped through them, holding them close to her so no one else could see them. Her entering the Great Hall, her standing next to the professors, her accepting Karkaroff's dance, her dancing with Karkaroff. The rest of the pictures were all from when she and Charlie were sitting together, laughing, smiling, glancing at each other. There was one when she was alone, staring after him, the next one of her meeting Percy. She flipped to the next photo and froze.

It was the only photo that showed the two of them dancing. His arms were around her waist protectively, her arms around his neck, and he was staring down at her, smiling softly, the sparkling lights casting a shadow across half of his face. Her head was lying gently on his shoulder, her eyes shut and she was smiling faintly but brightly. They looked happy, even content to just be in the others' arms. Amy smiled at the picture, one very similar to hers in the picture. Almost reluctantly, Amy flipped to the last picture, almost sad to have reached the end.

Only Charlie was in the last picture. He was standing, staring almost directly at the camera and his face was illuminated in a huge, goofy grin. Amy smile brightened at his expression, disappointed that he wasn't there with her right then.

Cheers broke through the silence, and Amy hastily stowed the pictures into her coat pocket, not noticing one of them slip from the pile and float gently to the ground.

Amy looked up to see Professor Dumbledore and Ludo Bagman pulling Fleur up onto the dock. She was shaking and covered in scratches, and she was alone, showing that she had failed to finish the task. The Beauxbatons students groaned in disappointment as Madame Pomfrey approached Fleur pulling her to the side and beginning to attend to her cuts.

Fleur had other ideas in mind. She jumped away from the healer, lunging towards the water before being stopped by Dumbledore, who handed her to Madame Maxime.

"Please! Gabrielle! I must 'elp Gabrielle!" Fleur pleaded, struggling against the much larger woman, who tried to soothe the young girl in French but to no avail. She continued to struggle, determined to get back into the water to save her hostage.

Fleur's pleads were cut off as the Hufflepuff house broke into cheers; Cedric had resurfaced with his hostage. He was pulled quickly out of the water, along with Cho Chang, a young Ravenclaw that Cedric was dating. Madame Pomfrey, although frustrated that Fleur wouldn't let her heal her, hurried to the other two students, wrapping them in blankets. As she passed by Amy, she heard her muttering to herself.

"Last year it was dementors, and now this year it's dragons and hypothermic waters," she was grumbling angrily.

As Pomfrey dealt with the two shaking students, the crowd once again broke out into cheers; Krum had resurfaced with Hermione Granger, who he was now pulling towards the docks as she coughed up water. The two were pulled onto the dock, Krum immediately pulling her aside and whispering to her. Before Hermione could do anything, Pomfrey fell upon the two, draping them in blankets.

Hermione glanced around, searching to see if Harry was anywhere to be seen, brushing Krum off in her worry while he tried to talk to her. Krum, however, did not give up, trying desperately, to pull her attention back to him, but she continued to search frantically for Harry, before realizing that he must still be in the water.

The crowd fell silent again as minutes passed with no sign of Harry. Some of the students looked nervously between each other, worried that the youngest champion may not reach the surface.

Amy stared out at the placid lake, looking for any sign of the young champion. Something caught her eye. Towards the middle of the lake, bubbles were sprouting up. Moments later, Harry burst through the water, pulling Ron Weasley and a young, blonde girl along beside him. The crowd roared with excitement, cheering and jumping up and down.

Ron and Harry exchanged a few words before dragging the young girl, who was having trouble swimming, back to the dock, where they were pulled up onto the wooden planks. Percy rushed forward, pulling Ron onto the docks as Fleur broke free of Maxime, running towards the young girl and embracing her. Dumbledore and Bagman helped Harry onto the dock, hitting him on the back to get the water out of him. Madame Pomfrey stalked over, pulling Harry over to Hermione, who tackled him in a hug. Immediately, she started speaking rapidly to him, pumping him of all the details she could, while Krum tried to regain her attention. Amy smirked as Hermione ignored him, unintentionally of course, because she was more worried about her friend than her beau.

From behind her, Amy heard Dumbledore conversing with the merpeople, who had followed the water-trodden students up to the surface. "A conference before we give the marks, I think," Dumbledore said to the other judges, who huddled around him.

As the judges calculated the final scores, Fleur released the young girl, who Amy now realized to be her sister, and rushed over to Harry, Hermione, and Ron, who had just escaped Percy's clutches.

Amy laughed as Fleur kissed Harry on each cheek, causing him to turn a deep red, before turning to Ron exclaiming, "And you too – you 'elped!" and swooping down to kiss him too, causing him to turn a brighter red than his hair and Hermione's previously ecstatic face to rage.

As Amy laughed, the stands went quiet as Bagman's magnified voice boomed out. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows.

"Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points."

The Beauxbatons students cheered despite the low marks that had been awarded to their champion.

"Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour." Bagman paused as the Hufflepuffs broke out into cheers. Cedric waved wearily to them. "We therefore award him forty-seven points." Again, the Hufflepuffs cheered loudly.

"Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points." The Durmstrang students stomped their feet, as Karkaroff clapped smugly, glancing at Amy with a smug and superior look.

"Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect," Bagman continued. "He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us the Mr. Potter was first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own.

"Most of the judges," Bagman broke off with a pointedly glare at Karkaroff, who took no notice of this, before continuing, "feel that his shows moral fiber and merits full marks. However… Mr. Potter's score is forty-five points." The audience broke into applause and cheers, as Harry glanced around in shock at his score. Ron clapped Harry on the shoulder, yelling something into his ear over the rambunctious crowd.

"The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June," concluded Bagman. "The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions." The crowd roared again in excitement as Madame Pomfrey ushered the champions and the hostages back to boats that would take them back to the warm castle.

Amy walked away with the other teachers, not noticing as Percy stooped to pick up the fallen photograph. He examined it, his narrow mind missing the obvious display of affection, but instead noted that the man was Charlie. He looked around for a moment before shrugging, and vowing to mail it to his older brother immediately.

…..

Later that night, Amy was seated at her desk, finishing a rather long letter to her Mom. As she signed her name, she remembered her mother's request of pictures to the ball. Getting up, Amy grabbed her coat from off a hook, searching through the pockets for the pictures. She drew them from one of the inner pockets. Quickly, she searched through them, looking for one that would answer all questions her mother might have without creating new questions about the mysterious red headed man. Finally, Amy settled on the picture of her entering the hall and the one of her standing beside the three heads. She also threw in the one of her Karkaroff asking her to dance.

On the back of the photographs, she dated them and wrote a little note explaining exactly what was going on, making sure to add a 'Yuck!' to the end of her message on the back of the Karkaroff picture. Satisfied that her mom would be happy, Amy stuck the photos in the envelope, closing in. She set it on the corner of her desk; she'd send it in the morning.

She stood up, stretching, before glancing down at the photos of her and Charlie. The photos were spread out on her desk, and she smiled as she revisited the memory of that night. She reached her hand down, her fingers lingering on the contours of his strong face, before she shook her head, piling the photos up and placing them in one of the desks' drawers.

…..

Hundreds of miles away, Charlie Weasley was seated on his bed, staring at the photo that had arrived in the mail.

'_The second task went brilliantly, it was a shame you couldn't be there…' _Percy had written, going off into a tangent about the task and about each of the champions.

'_I found this photograph on the dock when the task was over. It is you in the photo, so I figured I ought to give it to you. –Percy'_

Charlie looked away from the letter and back at the picture, his eyes sweeping over the couple. Percy was right. It was Charlie, but that wasn't what caught his eye. It was the girl in the picture. It was from the Yule Ball obviously, and had been taken when he and Amy were dancing. Her head was rested on his shoulder, and he was looking down at her, smiling at her beauty. It was an amazing picture, and for the first time in his life, Charlie was happy that Percy had sent him a letter.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hope you guys enjoyed it! Don't forget to review!<strong>

**Signing off,**

**WiseGirl**


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: **Hey guys! So here's the next chapter! Not very exciting unfortunately... I have the next to chapters written, so I'll post those in a couple hours. Yeah... now I just have to decide if I want to split this into different stories for the next book, or just keep it one story... you guys tell me. Hope you enjoy it!

**Dedication: _To Harry Potter! Happy Birthday!_**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

* * *

><p>Weeks passed, the students talked nothing of the second task, hunting down the champions and hostages desperate to find out what really happened in the darkness of the lake. To Amy's amusement, she heard several different versions of Ron Weasley's tale, each more farfetched than the last.<p>

However, when she entered the Great Hall one morning, the atmosphere was different. Instead of the normal shouts and cries from the tables, everyone was sitting in hushed groups, continuously glancing at the Gryffindor table where Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat, oblivious to the attention they were receiving. Confused, Amy glanced over the shoulders of several Ravenclaws, who were pouring over the pages of a Witch Weekly magazine.

Harry's face smiled back at here accompanied with the words "_Harry Potter's Secret Heartache". _Before she could read any further, her attention was drawn away by one of the teachers, who were calling her over to the front table. She glanced back at the magazine, before approaching the table. She had a feeling this wasn't going to end well.

…..

"Miss Parkinson," Amy said gently holding out her hand, "This is a classroom, not a gossiping teenage party." Parkinson glared up bitterly at the teacher. "You and Mr. Malfoy can continue your, what I'm sure is a very thrilling, conversation in detention tonight."

"But professor!" she cried indignantly. "This is so unfair! Professor Snape didn't mind!" Hermione snorted.

"Is that why he took twenty points away from Gryffindor, because we had the same magazine near our desk?" she questioned smugly. Pansy scowled at the Gryffindor.

"Nonetheless," Amy broke in, "You know my rules on reading material in the classroom. I prefer that it be nonfiction and not as slanderous. Also, I'm not Professor Snape, so his opinion does not rule in my classroom. Now, the magazine Miss Parkinson." Amy held out her hand again, and Pansy reluctantly placed the thumbed through papers in her hand. "My office, six o'clock sharp please."

Amy turned back to the rest of the class. "Now," she began, ignoring the glares she was receiving from the Slytherins, "Although it is only early April, we're going to start reviewing for your finals." She placed the disgraceful magazine on her desk, before instructing the class on their lesson.

At the end of class, the students hurried to their next class, Pansy and Draco sending final glares to the young professor, before following their cronies out of the classroom. Amy settled herself into her chair, picking up the magazine from her desk, and flipping through it.

As she landed on the page featuring Harry's face, she stopped, reading the article word for word, before snorting and throwing it into the trash.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever read," Amy muttered. She shook her head. "And I've read The Quibbler edition on nargles. Anyone who reads this for pleasure deserves to be in detention."

…..

On the next Hogsmeade trip, Amy visited the village, determined to find spend some time away from crowded castle. Despite the fact that it was only the beginning of May, many of the students were gearing up for the final task, and were wreaking havoc on Hogwarts. Amy also found that many students still believed the Witch Weekly article about the love triangle between Harry, Hermione, and Krum. It had been taken to such lengths, that Hermione started burning all unidentifiable letters, fearing the wrath of witches with no lives.

Amy's first stop was Honeydukes, for she needed to restock her candy storage, which had emptied so drastically, that Amy found herself getting up early most mornings to run around the lake. She would've run around the Quidditch pitch a few times, but the arena, in preparation for the final task, had been turned into field of hedges.

Amy picked out a few candies, paying for them quickly so as to get out of the crowded store filled with many Hogwarts students. As she exited the store, Ron, Hermione, and Harry passed by her. She normally would've taken no notice of the three friends, but Harry's bulging messenger bag drew her attention. Hermione had a bag filled to the brim with socks from Gladrags Wizardwear, which was slightly curious, but Harry's bag was filled to the point of bursting with a variety of different foods.

Amy wasn't one to follow people, but something struck her interest. The trio was talking in whispers, walking towards the edge of the village. They walked past Dervish and Banges, reaching the gate that separated Hogsmeade from the mountains. There was a dog sitting next to the gate, which approached the three on sight, sniffing Harry's bag before turning around and bounding away. The Gryffindors followed after the dog and Amy found herself fighting the urge to follow them.

'_It's not of my business,'_ she convinced herself, forcing herself to turn around. '_They're not stupid enough to get involved in something dangerous. I hope.' _Amy decided that her day trip had come to an end, and she made her way up the path towards Hogwarts, wondering what the three were up to the entire way.

…..

Several days passed, and Amy found herself wanting to go for a walk, despite the fact the night had fallen. Shrugging, Amy grabbed a hoodie, pulling it on before shutting her door behind her. She left her wand inside, figuring that the stars and moon would produce enough light for a walk.

As she entered the grounds, the warm May air hugged her. She smiled before walking down the beaten path towards the lake and forest, figuring that would be as good a spot as any to take a stroll. As she traipsed down the path, she hummed quietly to herself, filling the silence with a soft melody. She stopped near the edge of the lake that resided next to the woods. Amy wrapped her arms around her, continuing to hum, singing along softly. She shut her eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath of the fresh air.

From behind her, Amy heard the snapping of a branch and she spun around, searching for the source of the noise. She could hear someone moving in the woods and she took a step closer. Two flashes of light shot out in the darkness, one red and the other green. '_Green,' _ Amy realized. _'The Killing Curse.' _Amy hurried through the trees, running towards the spot that the lights had come from. As she ran, Amy stumbled over something large, falling to the ground, her arms outstretched.

She landed face first in the dirt, turning over quickly to see what she had tripped over. "Mr. Crouch?" Amy whispered, crawling slowly towards him. She reached out a hand to shake his shoulder when another flash of red shot out, hitting Amy in the side, and she fell over, unconscious.

…..

Amy sat up with a gasp, clutching her chest. Kneeling beside her was Professor Dumbledore and Harry Potter.

"Professor!" Harry cried. "What happened to Crouch?" Amy looked at him, before turning to the spot beside her which was empty, no trace of the man who had been lying their lifelessly.

"But," Amy gasped. "He was right there." She shook her head, trying to clear the grogginess out of her mind. "What happened?"

"We're hoping you could tell us," Dumbledore said. Harry held out a hand to the professor, helping her to her feet. She clutched her head as it throbbed.

"Where's Krum?" Harry asked glancing around the woods.

Amy looked at Harry from between her fingers. "Krum?" she asked wearily. "I-I didn't see Kr-" Amy broke off as a groan sounded from behind a tree. The trio turned towards the groan, Harry and Dumbledore holding their wands aloft as Amy peered from between their shoulders.

In the brightness of the wands, Krum sat up, rubbing his head. He looked around for a moment before catching sight of the trio. "He attacked me!" Krum cried indignantly. "The old madman attacked me! I vos looking around to see vare Potter had gone and he attacked from behind!"

"Wait," Amy implored. "What? But," she broke off, trying to remember what had happened.

Dumbledore approached the boy, laying a steady hand on the boy's shoulder. "Lie still for a moment," he commanded. From deep in the woods, a storm of footsteps came towards them, accompanied by Hagrid, who carried a large lamp, and his hound, Fang. Slung across his back was a crossbow.

"Professor Dumbledore, Professor Wyman!" Hagrid exclaimed with wide eyes. "Harry - what the-"

"Hagrid," Dumbledore broke in, "I need you to fetch Professor Karkaroff. His student has been attacked. When you've done that, kindly alert Professor Moody-" Dumbledore stopped his demands as Moody limped towards them.

"No need, Dumbledore. I'm here," he wheezed. "Damn leg. Would've been here quicker… what happened? Snape said something about Crouch-"

"Crouch?" Hagrid asked in confusion.

"Karkaroff, please, Hagrid!" Dumbledore demanded.

"Oh yeah… right y'are, Professor," Hagrid complied, before turning and rushing through the dark forest, Fang scurrying after him.

"I don't know where Barty Crouch is," Dumbledore spoke softly, "but it is essential that we find him."

Moody nodded sharply. "I'm onto it," he answered, pulling out his wand and turning towards the trees.

"But Professor," Amy broke in. "When I got here, Krum and Crouch were knocked out. At least, I think Crouch was knocked out." Before Amy could continue, Hagrid returned with Fang and Karkaroff in tow.

"What is this?" Karkaroff cried, leaning over his student. "What's going on?"

Before anyone could explain what had happened, Krum broke in. "I vos attacked!" he cried. "Mr. Crouch or votever his name –"

"Crouch?" Karkaroff roared. "Crouch attacked you? Crouch _attacked _you? The Triwizard judge?"

"No!" Amy interrupted. "That doesn't make sense! When I got here, Crouch was on the ground! I thought he had fallen, or had been stunned but before I could check, someone stunned me!"

"I suppose you are going to blame my student?" Karkaroff bellowed. Amy tried to deny this, but Karkaroff continued in his rampage. "Treachery! It is a plot!" Karkaroff pointed to Amy and Dumbledore in turn. "You and your Ministry of Magic have lured me here under false pretenses! This is not an equal competition! First you sneak Potter into the tournament, though he is underage! Now one of your Ministry friends attempts to put my champion out of action! I smell double-dealing and corruption in this whole affair, and you, Dumbledore, you with your talk of closer international wizarding links, of rebuilding old ties, of forgetting old differences – here's what I think of _you!"_

Karkaroff spit at Dumbledore's feet, a huge mistake on his part. Hagrid grabbed the back of Karkaroff's robes, lifting him off the ground and shaking him, before slamming him into a tree.

"Apologize," Hagrid growled at Karkaroff, gripping him tightly by the neck.

"Hagrid, _no!" _Amy and Dumbledore cried out. Hagrid glanced at the two professors before dropping Karkaroff to the ground.

"Kindly escort Harry back up to the school," Dumbledore commanded. "Take him up to the Gryffindor Tower. And Harry-" Dumbledore turned to him, looking him firmly in the eye. "I want you to stay there. Anything you might want to do – an owls you might want to send – they can wait until morning, do you understand me?"

Harry nodded his head solemnly before trudging back through the forest, Hagrid following after him, but not before glaring at Karkaroff one more time. The professors waited until the glow of Harry's light disappeared into the darkness before speaking.

"I will ask you not to accuse Professor Wyman, the Ministry, or myself of any form of misdoings on your part, especially when these accusations are false," Dumbledore said calmly, although there was an undertone of fierceness that chilled Amy to the bone. "Now, I suggest you and your student return to your ship. It has been a long night for both of you, and I must also see that Miss Wyman returns safely to her room as well.

"Do not worry though," Dumbledore concluded. "I will return later to search for Mr. Crouch." Dumbledore bowed his head slightly, before sweeping his arm towards the forest that led to the castle, gesturing for Amy to lead the way. Amy stepped carefully past the professor, glancing back at Karkaroff, who was leading Krum back to their ship. Dumbledore fell into step beside her and she turned back around, afraid that in the darkness she might run into a tree or trip over another body that would mysteriously disappear.

Amy reached up to brush away a lock of hair and for the first time she realized what a mess she must look like. Glancing down, she saw that the front of her clothes was covered in mud, and she had torn through the knees of her jeans. As the exited the forest, Amy used the now gleaming moonlight to look at her hands, which were cut and bleeding.

"You might wish to stop by Madam Pomfrey before you retire," Dumbledore broke through the quiet. Amy looked up at the Professor, who was staring intently ahead as they approached the castle. Amy ran a gentle finger across the cuts.

"Perhaps," she whispered. "Professor," Amy started before breaking off.

"Yes, Miss Wyman?" Dumbledore inquired softly. Amy took a deep breath before continuing.

"I know Viktor Krum said that he was attacked by Mr. Crouch, but I don't believe that's true," Amy said quickly. Dumbledore turned to her sharply.

"Why do you believe this?" he asked.

Amy sighed, knowing she had better start from the beginning. "I went for a walk this evening, and when I arrived at the edge of the lake, right beside the forest, I saw two flashes of light, one red and one green. I went to investigate, but before I got far, I tripped." Amy blushed in the darkness, ashamed of her klutziness. "When I turned around, I saw Mr. Crouch lying on the ground. Before I could see what had happened to him, I was hit with a stunning spell.

"You must see why I don't believe it was Crouch that attacked Krum," Amy implored as they walked through the halls of Hogwarts. "Even if he had attacked Krum, why did I find him on the forest floor? And who attacked me?"

"Those are all questions," Dumbledore stated wearily, "that I plan to find the answers to." He stopped walking; they had arrived at Amy's room. "Now, goodnight professor." He turned, walked down the hall swiftly, leaving Amy alone in the halls.

…..

The next morning, while on her way to the infirmary, to have her hands examined, Harry chased Amy downed.

"Professor! Professor Wyman!" he called. Amy glanced up from her burning hands to see Harry running towards her.

"Harry," Amy started, lowering her hands. "Is something wrong?"

He shook his head. "No, Professor, nothing like that," he said, "I just wanted to know if they found Crouch." Amy looked at the boy before shrugging.

"I'm sorry Harry," she apologized. "I'm not sure. Professor Dumbledore thought it would be best if I retired instead of searching for him, seeing as I had been stunned."

"Right," Harry muttered. "Sorry."

"For what?" Amy asked. "Were you the one who stunned me?"

Harry glanced up, surprise on his face. "W-What? No! Of course not!" he protested. Amy laughed at his defensiveness.

"I was kidding Harry," Amy laughed. "Don't you remember me telling you that I find laughing at a situation, even one that is humorless, makes it better?"

Harry nodded slowly, the conversation returning to him. "Of course Professor," he answered. "I'll see you in class then." He started to walk away.

"See you later," Amy said, returning to her mission of seeking out Madam Pomfrey to fix her hands.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>There you go, like I said, nothing exciting, but the next chapter should be up soon, and that has the third task and the confrontation with Moody... plus... CHARLIE! woot woot!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	11. Chapter 11

**AN:**Chapter eleven! Boomba! Chapter Eleven features: Third Task, Charlie, and Barty Crouch... Jr... Just a note, I know it may seem like Charlie and Amy may be moving fast, but the thing is, they haven't talked about their feelings really, and they won't get together for awhile actually... Sorry...

**Dedication:**To my readers! And the real Michelle who celebrated her birthday on the 30th!

**Disclaimer:**I own nothing.

A week later and there was still no word on Barty Crouch. Amy tried to push her thoughts of him aside, but found that with Karkaroff continuously going on about how unfair this entire tournament was, and how the Ministry was favoring Hogwarts, it was difficult to push these thoughts away.

According to Professor Dumbledore, Crouch was nowhere on the grounds, but that the Ministry had been alerted as to what had happened, and had control of it. He said the last part very bitterly, as though it had left a bad taste in his mouth. Before Amy was able to inquire any further, Dumbledore dismissed himself, leaving Amy alone.

'_I just need to forget about,' _Amy told herself. _'I'm going to go crazy if I keep thinking about it.'_

…..

The week of finals arrived, but it wasn't only nerves that ran through the students but excitement as well. At the end of the week, the third and final task would take place, and everyone, student, teacher, and ghost, were ecstatic to find out what would happen.

The day of the task began with much noise. The students cheered as each champion entered the halls, accompanied with noise from the daily post, made it almost impossible to hear the person sitting next to you. As the owl dropped the Prophet on her lap, Amy unraveled it, taking a sip of drink before glancing at the title. She choked on her drink, coughing loudly, as Sprout hit her on the back a few times. Amy wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her shirt, grabbing the paper, and pulling it closer to her.

"HARRY POTTER 'DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS'"

Amy's eyes raced down the article, drinking in the words, before throwing it down on the table. "What a load of crap," she muttered angrily. She glanced towards the Gryffindor table where she saw Harry reading the same paper. '_He shouldn't be reading that,' _she thought. _'Especially on the day of the task. It'll just throw him off.' _She shook her head.

All of sudden, Hermione jumped up, running out of the Great Hall as Ron called after her, "Oi! We've got our History of Magic exam in ten minutes!" As Harry and Ron stood up, McGonagall approached them, talking directly to Harry. Amy stood up, she had to oversee the sixth year exams, something she was not looking forward to really. It just meant sitting quietly for a very long time while a bunch of students nervously wrote down anything that came to mind. She hated overseeing tests more than actually taking a test.

As she walked out of the Great Hall, Harry passed her, a nervous look on his face as he headed towards the chamber off the side of the Great Hall. She threw him a curious look, but he just grimaced and shrugged his shoulders. She would've stopped to ask him, but she really needed to head to her classroom before she was late. Again.

…..

As the class escaped from her classroom, Amy let out a sigh of relief. It was done. Over. She could just relax. Well, after the task of course. She rubbed her face tiredly, something bubbling in her stomach. Something didn't feel right, but Amy couldn't put her finger on it, and she blamed it on worry over the champions.

Groaning, Amy pushed herself out of her seat, swishing her wand to extinguish the lights, leaving the room in the glow of the late afternoon, just before sunset. As she left the room, students ran passed, already dressed for the task, wearing paint on their faces and carrying posters supporting their champion. Amy smiled, vaguely remembering the soccer games from when she went to her muggle school.

As Amy entered the Great Hall, she saw many students jumping up and down and cheering. Walking towards the front table, Amy passed the Gryffindor table, where she saw more than the normal amount of redheads. Ron glanced up as she passed by.

"Oi! Professor!" he cried, waving her over. "Come here!" Amy laughed, happy that her students felt that they could simply yell at her to sit with them, despite the fact that she was a teacher. It made her feel like a big sister.

"Ronald!" scolded a plump redheaded woman. "Don't talk to your professors like that!" The woman turned to Amy. "I'm terribly sorry. I'm Molly Weasley, this bunches' mother." Amy held out a hand.

"Amy Wyman," she introduced. "I'm the Charms professor." Molly nodded.

"I've heard quite a bit about you," she answered. Amy glanced at her students.

"Really," Amy started, raising an eyebrow at the other Weasleys, who blushed and turned away. Harry laughed. "Interesting." Before any of the Weasleys could defend themselves, two more redheads appeared, and Amy's stomach flipped. One of them was Charlie.

"Oh, these are my oldest sons, Bill and-" Molly began.

"Charlie," Amy interrupted. "We've met." Their eyes met for a moment, before looking away quickly. Molly noticed. "I'm Amy Wyman," Amy said, holding out a hand to Bill, who shook it. "I'm the Charms teacher." Bill looked very much like Ron, tall and lanky, but his hair was much longer and he had earrings made from fangs. That surprised her. She thought that he worked at Gringotts.

"So you've been teaching these twits magic?" Bill asked, ducking a punch from one of the Twins.

"Trying to at least," Amy teased. It was easy to joke with them. They just had an air of welcoming around them. Bill and Charlie roared with laughter, while the others made sounds of disagreement. Behind them, Amy heard someone skid to a halt behind them. She turned in her seat to see Hermione.

"Hermione, are you going to tell us -?" Harry broke off as Hermione shook her head cautiously, glancing at Mrs. Weasley, whose face had dropped into a frown.

"Hello Hermione," Mrs. Weasley greeted, nowhere near as warmly as she had greeted Amy.

"Hello," Hermione answered softly, a sad look on her face. Amy stood from her seat, offering it to Hermione, who sat hesitantly.

Amy leaned over to Harry whispering, "Looks like someone's been reading Rita Skeeter." She gave him a pointed look before waving to the table and walking away. Behind her, Amy heard Harry say, "Mrs. Weasley, you didn't believe that rubbish Rita Skeeter wrote in _Witch Weekly,_did you? Because Hermione's not my girlfriend."

Mrs. Weasley sputtered slightly before replying, "Oh! No – of course I didn't!" Amy smirked slightly as she strode up to the front table. As she seated herself, she glanced back at the Gryffindor table to see the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione laughing. Except for Charlie.

He was staring up at Amy, a smile on his face. Amy caught his eye, smiling back at him. His smile widened before he looked back at his family, stealing a glance towards Amy again. A faint blush rose on her face, but Amy shook her head, willing the blush to go away. She looked away, anywhere but at him, and her eyes fell upon Fleur and her family, who were talking in rapid French, despite the obvious looks of confusion they were receiving from the Ravenclaws beside them. From her seat, Amy saw Fleur look over at the Gryffindor table, at Bill Weasley, who looked back at her. Fleur looked away blushing, which surprised Amy. She had never seen the French student blush.

She caught herself looking at Charlie again, who had also noticed his older brother staring at the younger girl. They both stifled their laughter, turning away before they could burst out into laughter and deem themselves as crazy.

…..

Dinner that night featured more courses than usual, although, Amy noticed that most of the champions weren't eating, but instead were picking at their plates nervously. Bagman had decided to switch things up, and had chosen to sit next to Dumbledore, forcing Karkaroff over a seat, and next to Amy.

Although Karkaroff had been much cooler to her since the Crouch incident, he was still pleased to find himself sitting next to the young teacher, and on more than one occasion, he 'accidently' would brush his hand against her or his leg would bumped into her thigh. His leering made her stomach turn and she was more than relieved when Dumbledore stood up to make an announcement.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now." Amy was relieved when the Karkaroff stood along with the other heads, following their champions down to the pitch.

Five minutes passed before the students, faculty, and champions' families made their way to the Quidditch pitch. Amy was at the back of crowd, making her way slowly towards the pitch. The sky had darkened and a few stars began to appear in the night sky. When Amy finally reached the arena, the stands were filled and Bagman started his commentary.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each – Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!" The crowd roared with approval and excitement, Amy clapping along as she looked for a seat. "In second place, with eighty points – Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!" More applause, much of it coming from the Slytherins. "And in third place – Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy." Realizing that there were obviously no seats left, Amy stood by the bleachers, leaning against a wooden post, as the crowd cheered for the French student.

"So… on my whistle, Harry and Cedric!" Bagman proclaimed, pulling a whistle from his pocket. He brought it near his mouth, crying, "Three – two – one!" He blew the whistle, and the two Hogwarts champions ran into the maze which closed behind them, cutting the audiences view of them off.

Bagman waited five minutes before, urging Krum forward and blowing his whistle again. Krum hurried into the hedges, determined to make up for his lost time. The audience continued to cheer, shouting and jumping as Bagman blew the whistle again, Fleur rushing into the maze.

As time passed, the audience still cheering, despite the fact that they really had no idea what was going on inside the maze. Amy yawned tiredly, glancing at her watch finding that almost thirty minutes had passed.

"Not as exciting as the others?" a voice asked. Amy looked to her left, to see Charlie standing on the last step of the bleachers.

"Yes, because staring at water for an hour is terribly exciting," Amy joked. Charlie laughed before stepping down the final step and standing next to Amy.

"I guess you're right," he sighed. Amy laughed.

"Of course, I'm right," Amy teased, "I'm a teacher!" Charlie laughed again, nudging her gently with his elbow.

"You're not like most teachers though," Charlie said, glancing at her.

"No, I'm not," Amy admitted shamelessly, staring at the maze that was dancing in the summer breeze. "But that's a good thing, right?" Amy asked, tearing her gaze away from the hedges and towards Charlie who looked back at her.

"A very good thing," he said softly. Their gazes locked, hazel and blue, staring into the others' eyes. Subconsciously, the two leaned forward slightly, their faces nearing each other's in the shadow of the bleachers.

Someone screamed, Amy and Charlie looked towards the hedges, and they stepped away from each other, nervously. The crowd waited, holding their breaths, searching for a sign, anything, of what was going on. As they waited with bated breaths, more screams broke out in the night. Screams of pain, screams of someone being tortured. The teachers around the boarders of the maze glanced at each other nervously, but did nothing. They waited for the sparks.

The screams stopped, but this time the crowd made no noise. Suddenly, from the almost the middle of the maze, red sparks shot up into night. The crowd cried out as one of the teachers disappeared into the maze, reappearing moments later with Viktor Krum who was unconscious. The Durmstrang students cried out in disappointment, and Amy saw Karkaroff spit at the ground angrily. He caught Amy looking at him, and glared angrily at her, almost as though he was blaming her for had happened. Charlie caught this look, and stepped a little in front of Amy, so he was blocking her from Karkaroff's view. It was casual enough, but he felt a bubble of protectiveness build up inside him.

Suddenly, from the very center of the maze, a bluish glow rose up, before disappearing quickly. The crowd jumped to their feet, trying to peer inside the maze, but to no avail. The teachers and heads looked at each other, confusion etched on their faces. Something was happening inside the maze, something bad. Amy's stomach dropped, and she stepped forward looking around frantically.

"Amy?" Charlie asked, reaching a hand towards her. "Amy, what is it?" Amy looked back at him quickly.

"I don't know," she started, "but something is not right." Charlie looked at her worriedly.

"I'm sure everything's fine, Amy," Charlie said coaxingly, trying to calm the nervous teacher down. He grabbed her arm gently, pulling her back. "It's just your nerves. Everything's fine."

Amy glared at him lightly out of the corner of her eye, but she let him try to coax her into relaxing. Seconds passed in silence, except for the whispering from the crowd. Seconds turned into minutes, and the students grew bored. No one noticed Karkaroff sneak off in the shadows.

Suddenly, red sparks flew from the maze, and moments later, a teacher immerged with Fleur Delacour, who was scratched and bruised. When she caught sight of Krum, who had awoken in a dazed confusion, she threw herself at him, punching and scratching every part of him that she could.

"You! You attacked me!" She cried furiously. "Bâtarde!" she screeched. Several teachers rushed forward, pulling the screaming and kicking girl off the boy. She continued to scream and curse in French, even as Madame Maxime pulled her away.

"Vhat vos that for?" Krum cried indignantly. "I didn't touch you!" The two champions continued to argue, Fleur shouting at him for attacking her while Krum swore that he didn't remember even seeing her in the maze. Amy glanced at Charlie, who now had a look of worry on his face.

"Do you believe me now?" she asked, her eyes searching his. "Something isn't right!" Before Charlie could say anything, cheers broke out from the crowd; Harry and Cedric had returned, clutching the Triward Cup. The crowd continued to cheer for the winning duo, not noticing the tears streaking down Harry's face. Amy shot forward, running towards Harry and Cedric. She dropped to her knees beside him at the same time that Dumbledore arrived beside them. Amy reached out to pull Harry and Cedric up, when she finally looked at Cedric. His eyes were opened, lifeless and empty and his mouth was half open in shock. Amy withdrew her hand, placing it in front of her mouth in horror.

"He's dead," she whispered tears welling up in her eyes. Someone screamed. Amy looked up to see Fleur screaming, pointing in horror at Cedric. "Dumbledore, we need to do something," she whispered to the older professor.

"He's back," Harry interrupted in a whisper. "He's back. Voldemort."

Fudge came towards them. "What's going on? What's happened?" He stopped. "My God – Diggory! Dumbledore – he's dead!" The crowd grew silent, except for the whispers.

"He's dead!" "He's _dead!" _"Cedric Diggory! _Dead!" _

"Harry, let go of him," Fudge coaxed, glancing around nervously.

Dumbledore leaned over Harry, tugging on his arm gently. "Harry, you can't help him now. It's over. Let go."

"He wanted me to bring him back," Harry whispered desolately. "He wanted me to bring him back to his parents…" Tears dripped down Amy's face. Amy stood as Dumbledore pulled Harry up. She looked around desperately, running a hand through her hair wearily.

"He needs to go to the hospital wing!" Fudge urged loudly. "He's ill, he's injured – Dumbledore, Diggory's parents, they're here in the stands…"

Moody appeared next to Amy, grasping Harry's other arm. "I'll take Harry, Dumbledore, I'll take him-"

"No," Dumbledore broke in. "I would prefer-"

"Dumbledore, Amos Diggory's running… he's coming over…" Fudge hissed. Amy glanced over towards Amos Diggory, who was rushing towards his son… his son who was dead…

Amy stepped around the arguing men, as Moody brushed passed her, but she took no notice. She hurried towards Mr. Diggory, holding out her hands. "Mr. Diggory," Amy said. "Mr. Diggory, please wait!" But he took no notice of her, pushing past her, before collapsing next to his son, gripping his robes and sobbing into his son's lifeless chest. Amy looked around desperately, catching Charlie's eye. He looked somberly at her, and she took in a ragged breath, forcing herself not to start sobbing. Charlie made a motion as to approach her, when she heard something from behind her.

"Where's Harry?" Amy spun around to face Professor Dumbledore, who was looking across the sea of students for the young champion. Amy spared a sorrowful glance towards Cedric and his parents, who were clutching their son's body. Professor Sprout had her hands on their shoulders, whispering soothing words to them.

"What do you mean?" she asked. "He was right here." Amy looked over the students, searching for Harry's messy hair. Everywhere she looked, Amy saw students sobbing, clutching each other, and shaking. Cho Chang had fallen to her knees and was sobbing into the ground, two of her friends kneeling besides her, their arms around her as they gently cried into her shoulders. Amy continued to search for Harry in the crowd, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Amy turned back to Dumbledore, who was deep in thought. Amy stared at him for a moment, before his face broke into one of realization. "Minerva, Severus, Amy would you accompany me," Dumbledore questioned, although it was more of a demand. Before either of the teachers could respond, Dumbledore rushed off towards the castle, the professors looking at each other for a moment before rushing after him. As the neared the castle, the professors drew their wands, entering the building, following the headmaster as he ran through the halls.

The subjects in the portraits gawked after the professors, who were running at full speed, three of them not knowing where the fourth was leading them. Suddenly, Dumbledore skidded to a halt outside of Moody's office. Before the professors could speak, Dumbledore raised his wand.

"_Stupefy!" _ Dumbledore cried, his spell crashing through the office door, the door splintering and falling apart, as the curse hit Moody, who flew into the wall before crumbling into a heap. Amy stared at Dumbledore in shock, astounded by the fact that he had just attacked one of the greatest Aurors of all time. However, Amy knew not to speak, because, even from behind, she could see that all traces of his normal kindness was gone, and in his place was a powerful and furious wizard.

Dumbledore stepped into the room, striding over to Moody and kicking him onto his back. Snape followed him, looking at the walls of the office that were adorned with Moody's many dark wizard detectors as McGonagall rushed towards Harry. Amy stayed in the doorway, her wand trained on the unconscious professor.

"Come along Potter," McGonagall whispered, her voice cracking softly. "Come along… hospital wing…"

"No," Dumbledore commanded sharply. McGonagall glanced towards the older professor.

"Dumbledore, he ought to – look at him – he's been through enough tonight-"

"He will stay Minerva, because he needs to understand," Dumbledore broke in. "Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery. He needs to know who has put him through the ordeal he had suffered tonight, and why."

"He needs to grieve properly," Amy whispered to lost ears.

"Moody," Harry prompted disbelievingly. "How can it have been Moody?"

"This is not Alastor Moody," Dumbledore stated softly. Everyone's head shot towards Dumbledore. "You have never known Alastor Moody. The real Moody would not have removed you from my sight after what happened tonight. The moment he took you, I knew – and I followed." Dumbledore reached over the unconscious man, searching through his cloak, while he continued to speak.

"Severus, please fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you possess, and then go down to the kitchens and bring up the house-elf called Winky," Dumbledore commanded, not stopping as Snape exited the room. "Minerva, kindly go down to Hagrid's house, where you will find a large black dog sitting in the pumpkin patch. Take the dog to my office, tell him I will be with him shortly, than come back here." McGonagall hurried out of the room leaving Amy, Dumbledore, Harry, and the unconscious imposter behind.

From under Moody's cloak, Dumbledore pulled out a key ring and Moody's flask, sniffing it gingerly. Setting the flask on the desk, Dumbledore moved to a chest that sat in the corner of the room, Amy and Harry watching his every movement. Kneeling, Dumbledore used the keys on the lock of the trunk, unlocking each level, each revealing a new assortment of books and paper. Finally, reaching the last level, Dumbledore unlocked it and peered into the trunk. Amy and Harry leaned forward slightly, before withdrawing in shock.

The chest opened into a pit of some sort, where passed out on the floor, almost ten feet below, was Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody. The real one. This one however, was missing his wooden leg, spinning eye, and several clumps of hair. Amy stepped forward, holding up the lid of the chest as Professor Dumbledore climbed inside, dropping lightly to the dirt floor. Harry and Amy watched as Dumbledore leaned over the Auror.

"Stunned – controlled by the Imperius Curse – very weak," the headmaster remarked. "Of course, they would have needed to keep him alive. Throw down the imposter's cloak - he's freezing," he commanded. Amy nodded towards Harry, who removed the cloak from the imposter and threw it down to Dumbledore, who caught it swiftly and wrapped it around the sleeping man. "Madam Pomfrey will need to see him, but he seems in no immediate danger."

Glancing at the unconscious man once more, Dumbledore climbed out of the trunk, before picking the hip flask from off the desk and dumping the contents onto the floor. Thick, oily liquid spilled onto the floor, spreading rapidly.

"Polyjuice Potion," Dumbledore commented. He stared up, a gleam in his eye. "You see the simplicity of it, and the brilliance. For Moody never _does _drink except from his hip flask, he's well known for it. The imposter needed, of course, to keep the real Moody close by so that he could continue making the potion."

"That's why his hair," Amy trailed off as Dumbledore nodded.

"The imposter has been cutting it off all year, see where it is uneven? But I think, in the excitement of tonight, our fake Moody might have forgotten to take it as frequently as he should have done… on the hour… ever hour… We shall see." The trio turned to watch the Stunned man, who lay there in Moody's mask. Several minutes passed, when the body began to morph. It started with the scars on his face, which disappeared, the skin on his face smoothing out. Next came the nose, growing smaller and whole again, then they hair, turning yellow, the wooden leg falling off as a real leg grew back, the magic blue eye popping off, before spinning away, swirling in every direction.

To Amy, the man was a stranger, but it was obvious from the gasps and noises from the returned Snape and McGonagall, that they knew exactly how he was.

"Crouch!" Snape cried, causing Amy to spin around, staring at him. '_Crouch? What?'_ Amy glanced back at the young man. "Barty Crouch!"

"Good heavens," McGonagall exclaimed, clutching her chest. From behind Snape, a wide eyed house-elf appeared, screeching at the sight of the unconscious man.

"Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you doing here?" the house-elf cried, throwing itself onto the man. "You is killed him! You killed him! You is killed Master's son!" _'Crouch's son.' _Amy realized.

"He is simply Stunned, Winky," Dumbledore interrupted. "Step aside, please. Severus, you have the potion?" Snape stepped forward, placing a small bottle filled with clear liquid into the wizard's hand. Dumbledore pulled the Stunned man into a sitting position, forcing the potion down the man's throat. Standing up, Dumbledore pointed his wand at the man and said, "_Ennervate."_

The man opened his eyes, his face slack and his eyes unfocused.

"Can you hear me?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Yes," he muttered.

"I would like you to tell us, how you came to be here," Dumbledore demanded. "How did you escape from Azkaban?"

Against his will, Crouch explained everything, how his mother died to save her son, how his father subdued him using the Imperius Curse, the Ministry official who found out he was alive, only to have her memory erased. He explained how Winky the house-elf convinced his father to let him attend the Quidditch World Cup, how he stole a wand, using it to cast the Dark Mark while a group of Death Eaters attacked the camp grounds.

A wicked grin crossed over Crouch's face as he told them how his master came to him one night, in the arms of a servant, how Crouch's father was placed under the Imperius curse, allowing Crouch to return to his master in his time of need. How Crouch took the needed role of a secret servant in Hogwarts, one who would ensure that Harry Potter would win the Triwizard Tournament. How Crouch, with the help of a wizard named Wormtail, captured Moody, keeping him under the Imperius Curse, so that Crouch would have an endless supply of the necessary hair.

"And what became of Wormtail after you attacked Moody?" Dumbledore questioned.

"Wormtail returned to care for my master, in my father's house, and to keep watch over my father."

"But your father escaped," Dumbledore supplied.

"Yes. After a while he began to fight the Imperius Curse. There were periods when he knew what was happening. That was when my master decided it was no longer safe for my father to leave the house, so he forced her to send letters in saying he was ill. Wormtail neglected his duty though, and my father escaped.

"My master sent word of my father's escape, believing that he would go to Hogwarts. He told me to stop him at all costs. So I waited and watched. I used the map I had taken from Harry Potter, the one that almost ruined everything."

"What map?" Dumbledore asked quickly.

"Potter's map of Hogwarts. Potter saw me on it. Potter saw me stealing more ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion from Snape's office one night, thinking I was my father. I took the map from Potter, told him my father hated Dark wizards and was after Snape.

"For a week, I waited for my father to arrive at Hogwarts. At last, one evening, the map showed my father entering the grounds. I pulled on my Invisibiity Cloak and went down to meet was walking around the edge of the forest. Then Potter came, and Krum. I waited. I could not hurt Potter; my master needed him. Potter ran to get Dumbledore. I stunned Krum. I killed my father."

"_Noooo!" _Winky shrieked, sobbing harder than ever. "Master Barty, Master Barty what is you saying?" Crouch continued as though he hadn't heard.

"I was about to dispose of his body, when Wyman came running through the woods. The witch tripped over my father's body and fell. Before she could get up to look at him, I Stunned her."

Amy's eye twitched slightly at his admittance of attacking her.

"You killed your father," Dumbledore said softly. "What did you do with the body?"

"After Stunning the witch, I carried it into the forest. Covered it with the Invisibility Cloak. I had the map with me. I watched Potter run into the castle. He met Snape. Dumbledore joined them I watched Potter bringing Dumbledore out of the castle. I walked back out of the forest, doubled around behind them, went to meet them. I told Dumbledore Snape had told me where to come.

"Dumbledore told me to go and look for my father. I went back to my father's body. Watched the map. When everyone was gone, I Transfigured my father's body. He became a bone… I buried it, while wearing the Invisibility Cloak, in the freshly dug earth in front of Hagrid's cabin." He grew quiet, and silence rang through the room, accompanied by Winky's weeping.

"And tonight…" Dumbledore trailed off.

"I offered to carry the Triwizard Cup into the maze before dinner. Turned it into a Portkey." Crouch grinned sadistically. "My master's plan worked. He is returned to power and I will be honored by him beyond the dreams of wizards. He laughed manically, before his head drooped to his shoulder and Winky sobbed beside him.

**AN:**Next chapter: More Charlie, Fudge being a jerk, Charlie, and you will learn what Amy hears/sees when approached by a dementor, as well as some of Michelle's past. Don't forget to review!

Translation: "Bâtarde!" – Bastard!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	12. Chapter 12

**AN:** Here's the next chapter! Boomba! Haha… ummm so in this chapter you've got a little bit of Charlie, a rather long conversation with Fudge, and you learn what Amy hears when near dementors. Also, you learn a little bit about Michelle.

**Dedication: ** To my readers!

**Disclaimer: ** I own nothing.

* * *

><p>Amy stared in disbelieving shock as Dumbledore stood up. "Minerva, Amy could I ask you to stand guard here while I take Harry upstairs?"<p>

"Of course," Professor McGonagall answered. Amy nodded slowly, still in shock over what she had just heard. Despite this, Amy and McGonagall pointed their wands at Crouch, their hands steady.

"Severus, please tell Madam Pomfrey to come down here; we need to get Alastor Moody into the hospital wing," Dumbledore commanded, looking at Snape directly. "Then go down into the grounds, find Cornelius Fudge, and bring him up to this office. He will undoubtedly want to question Crouch himself. Tell him I will be in the hospital wing in half an hour's time if he needs me." Snape nodded quietly, sweeping out of the room.

Dumbledore now turned to Harry. "Harry?" Dumbledore asked, offering an arm to the shaky boy, and together the two left the room, the oldest walking and the youngest limping.

Amy raised a shaky hand to her head. "This can't be happening," she murmured. Silence fell upon the room.

"How old were you when You-Know-Who was vanquished?" McGonagall asked quietly. Amy glanced momentarily at the professor.

"Um," Amy stuttered. "I wouldn't have even been, um… it was just before my eighth birthday," Amy answered. "But I grew up in the Muggle world, so nothing really changed."

Amy looked towards the older woman. "What's going to happen?" she inquired softly, feeling slightly left out. McGonagall sighed.

"Fear," she answered. "Fear will spread, mistrust, secrets. Then the deaths." McGonagall grew quiet. "If it's anything like the first war, there will be many deaths." The two stopped talking, their minds racing over everything that they had just learned. Minutes passed, minutes that felt like hours, only sobs from Winky breaking the silence.

'_Voldemort's back,' _Amy thought. She had grown up in America, away from the middle of the war. She had grown up in the Muggle world, not learning of his name until she was already stubborn and rebellious. She wasn't afraid to say his name. '_Voldemort's back. Cedric's dead. Voldemort killed Cedric.' _

Gloom and despair bubbled inside of Amy, as these thoughts swam through her mind. She became chilled, all hopeful thoughts escaping her, leaving her a shell of dark memories. Panic built up inside her as she remembered… remembered all of the memories that she had blocked away.

The death of her grandfather… screams filled her head… her mother sobbing over Rich's seemingly lifeless body …the screams grew louder… Cedric's lifeless eyes stared up at her… the screaming echoed through her head… that night, when Michelle tried to… Amy dropped her wand clutching her head, the screams louder than ever, accompanied with the screeching of cars and honking horns.

"Professor?" McGonagall's voice broke through the screams, as did the creaking of the door opening. Coldness rushed into the room, and the screams pierce through Amy. She fell to her knees.

"Cornelius! NO!" McGonagall cried. The coldness rushed passed Amy, as McGonagall continued to cry out. "NO! STOP IT! EXPECTO PATRONUM!" A sudden surge of warmth entered the room, driving away the cold. Amy felt warmth enter her body, the screams quieting as the gloom and despair melted away. Amy fell forward, her hands clutching at the cold stone floor.

In the background, Amy could hear shouting.

"WHY WOULD YOU BRING ONE HERE?" McGonagall cried.

"My dear woman! It was for our protection! This man's a madman! He's dangerous!" a voice, Amy recognized as Fudge's protested.

Amy raised her head slowly, the throbbing begin to slip away. She recoiled immediately. Crouch was slouched on the floor, his eyes staring out vaguely, nothing behind him. She would've thought he was dead, had it not been for the slight rise and fall of his chest.

Amy scrambled away from him, backing up into the feet of McGonagall. "W-What happened to him?" Amy gasped.

"DEMENTORS!" McGonagall boomed angrily. "Fudge brought a dementor with him! And now look at Crouch!" McGonagall continued to shout at the Minister, as Amy pushed herself off the ground.

"Dementors," she whispered. "It was just a dementor. Just push the memories back Amy." She continued to mutter to herself quietly.

"ENOUGH!" Fudge roared. "I am the Minister of Magic! I will not be spoken to like that! Besides, it would appear that something is wrong with the professor!"

"Something wrong with her?" McGonagall demanded. "Obviously! The damn dementor had a serious effect on her! You wait until Dumbledore hears about this!"

"Yes, actually!" Fudge broke in. "Dumbledore! Excuse me! I must speak with him!" Fudge exited the room hurriedly.

"Not without me!" McGonagall protested, grabbing Amy's arm and pulling her along, Snape, who had been oddly silent the entire conversation, following after.

"Dementors are not allowed on the grounds of Hogwarts!" McGonagall cried, running after the Minister with surprising speed, Amy stumbling along behind her. "There is a reason Dumbledore wanted you to see Crouch and it was not so you could take his soul!" They were approaching the hospital wing.

"Regrettable, but all the same, Minerva-" Fudge argued.

"You should never have brought it in the castle!" McGonagall shouted, releasing Amy who fumbled now that she had been released. "When Dumbledore finds out-" Fudge pushed open the doors of the infirmary, causing them to bang against the walls. Amy and Snape followed the two in, Amy beginning to regain some of her strength.

"Where's Dumbledore?" Fudge demanded loudly. As Amy entered the wing, she noticed the entire Weasley clan, Hermione, and a large black dog surrounding Harry, who looked as though he had just awoken. Mrs. Weasley stepped forward, blustering slightly.

"He's not here," she hissed. "This is a hospital wing, Minister, don't you think you'd do better-" The doors burst open again, cutting Molly off before she could yell at the Minister as though he were a naughty child. Amy glanced over to see Dumbledore strode into the room.

"What has happened?" he demanded gruffly. "Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you – I asked you and Amy to stand guard over Barty Crouch –"

"There's no need for that," Amy said softly. Everyone looked to her, noticing, for the first time, how weak and tired she looked. "The Minister has seen to that."

McGonagall flushed angrily, trembling in fury, and Snape broke in.

"When we told Mr. Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's event," he began, "he seemed to feel his personal safety was in question. He insisted on summoning a dementor to accompany him into the castle. He brought it up to the office where Barty Crouch-"

"I told him you would not agree, Dumbledore!" McGonagall argued, breathing heavily through her nose. "I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot inside the castle, but-"

"My dear woman!" Fudge cried, now infuriated, "as Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous-"

"The moment that – that thing entered the room," McGonagall screamed over Fudge, "it swooped down on Crouch- and –" She broke off struggling to find the words, but determined to turn Dumbledore against Fudge as well. McGonagall searched the room, her gaze landing on Amy, who was holding onto one of the beds for support. She pointed at Amy, who looked slightly affronted. "Look at the state of Wyman! That thing obviously had some horrible effect on her!"

Amy glared at McGonagall. "I'm fine," she hissed through her teeth, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Which is more than we can say for Crouch." From the corner of her eye, Amy saw Charlie staring at her, but she didn't look at him, fearing what he may do, if he saw the pain in her eyes. The screams and screeching still echoing in her head. '_But it's simply that,' _she thought, trying to convince herself. _'They're just echoes.'_

"By all accounts, he is no loss!" Fudge protested. "It seems he has been responsible for several deaths!"

"But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius," Dumbledore said imploringly. "He cannot give evidence about why he killed those people."

Fudge glanced around, searching for someone who would defend his actions. "Why he killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it?" he blustered defensively. "He was a raving lunatic! From what these professors have told me, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who's instructions!"

"Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore started, talking through the flinches from the majority of the room, "_was _giving him instructions, Cornelius. Those people's deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body."

Fudge's mouth dropped, and he looked around, as though expecting someone to jump out crying "GOTCHA!" No one did.

"You-Know-Who… returned?" he sputtered in confusion. "Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore…"

"As you've doubtlessly been told," explained Dumbledore, "we heard Crouch confess Under the influence of Veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Voldemort – learning of his continued existence from Bertha Jorkins – went to free him from his father and send him to capture Harry. The plan worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return.

A faint smile grew on Fudge's face, and Amy felt something cold settle in her stomach. "See here, Dumbledore," Fudge reasoned, "you – you can't seriously believe that. You-Know-Who – back? Come now, come now… certainly, Crouch may have _believed _himself to be acting upon You-Know-Who's orders – but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Dumbledore…" Fudge trailed off.

"When Harry touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, he was transported straight to Voldemort," Dumbledore said swiftly. "He witnessed Lord Voldemort's rebirth. I will explain it all to you if you will step up to my office." Dumbledore glanced towards Harry. "I am afraid I cannot permit you to question Harry tonight."

"You're prepared to take Harry's word on this, are you, Dumbledore?" Fudge's grin grew slightly. The dog sitting next to Harry's bed growled lightly. Amy looked towards it, her attention catching on a figure several beds back, which she recognized to be Moody.

"Certainly, I believe Harry," Dumbledore said calmly. Amy made to turn back when Charlie caught her eye, worry apparent in his face. She held his gaze for a moment before turning back to the conversation at hand. "I heard Crouch's confession, and I heard Harry's account of what happened after he touched the Triwizard Cup; the two stories make sense, they explain everything that has happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last summer." The grin still lingered on Fudge's face.

"You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer, and a boy who… well…"

Harry's voice broke through the awkward silence. "You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr. Fudge," Harry spoke softly. The Weasleys and Hermione jumped, obviously not knowing that Harry was awake.

"And if I have?" Fudge asked defensively, crossing his arms. "If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the boy very quiet? A Parselmouth, eh? And having funny turns all over the place-"

"I assume that you are referring to the pains Harry has been experiencing with his scar?" Dumbledore broke in coolly.

"You admit that he has been having these pains, then?" Fudge cried, jumping at this confession. "Headaches? Nightmares? Possibly- hallucinations?"

Dumbledore spoke quietly, but the fury radiating beneath his words made Fudge step back. "Harry is as sane as you and I. That scar upon his forehead has not addled his brains. I believe it hurts him when Lord Voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly murderous."

"You'll forgive me, Dumbledore, but I've never heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell before…"

"Look!" Harry cried, trying to get out of his bed, only to be restrained by Mrs. Weasley. "I saw Voldemort come back! I saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy –"

"Malfoy was cleared!" Fudge argued. "A very old family – donations to excellent causes –"

"Macnair!"

"Also cleared! Now working for the Ministry!"

"Avery – Nott – Crabbe – Goyle!"

"You are merely repeating the names of those who were acquitted of being Death Eaters thirteen years ago!" Fudge roared. "You could have found those names in old reports of the trials! For heaven's sake, Dumbledore – the boy was full of some crackpot story at the end of last year too – his tales are getting taller, and you're still swallowing them – the boy can talk to snakes, Dumbledore, and you still think he's trustworthy?"

"You foolish man," Amy spoke up boldly. She released the bed post, stepping strongly towards the Minister. "This is just the beginning! Cedric and Mr. Crouch, they're just the first! Put aside your silly beliefs, and place your trust in Dumbledore, you idiotic man! These deaths were not the random work of a lunatic!"

"Miss Wyman," Fudge protested, "watch yourself. I am the Minister of Magic-"

"In England," Amy interrupted. "Perhaps you've forgotten, but despite my working here at Hogwarts, I'm still a citizen of America. Through and through." Her eyes flashed dangerously.

"It seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilize everything we have worked for these last thirteen years!" Fudge accused.

Dumbledore stepped forward again. "Voldemort has returned," Dumbledore repeated. "If you accept that fact straightaway, Fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation. The first and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the dementors-"

"Preposterous!" shouted Fudge. "Remove the dementors? Half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the dementors are standing guard at Azkaban."

"The rest of us sleep less soundly in our beds, Cornelius, knowing that you have put Lord Voldemort's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join him the instant he asks them!" Dumbledore said imploring Fudge to see the truth. Amy shivered slightly, as though the dementor was back in the room with her, the screams echoing again in her head, her voice calling out, "_MICHELLE!_" Amy shook her head slightly, trying to banishing these thoughts away. "With the dementors behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard-pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago!"

The memories pressed themselves into Amy brain, and she began to lose focus on the conversation, allowing her to be drawn into her worst memory. _She could feel the cold of that January seep through her, chilling her to the bone._

_She felt the weight of her knitted hat on her head, the wind pushing her hair into her face._ Through the laughter of her classmates and friends, Amy heard Dumbledore's voice, deep and powerful, ripping through Fudge, but the memories pushed forward.

_The laughter fell upon deaf ears, as she stared at Michelle, who was walking slowly ahead of her, looking forlorn. Amy glanced back at the laughing classmates, before falling into step besides Michelle. _

"_How are you feeling?"_ the memory of her gentle voice echoed through her head, harmonizing with Dumbledore's deep one, as Dumbledore tore into Fudge.

_Michelle ignored her. _Fudge protested against Dumbledore, denying everything.

"_Michelle?" _"Cornelius, we have reached a parting of the ways."

_Michelle didn't look at Amy, before taking off into a run. Amy didn't even hesitate before racing after the girl._

"I've given you free rein, always. I've had a lot of respect for you. I might not have agreed with some of your decisions, but I've kept quiet."

"_Michelle!" Amy cried, tearing after her friend, despite the cries from her fellow classmates. Michelle continued to run, showing no signs of stopping as she neared the street full of ongoing traffic._

"The only one against whom I intend to work is Lord Voldemort."

"_MICHELLE!" Amy cried, as the younger girl reached the edge of the sidewalk. Amy lunged forward, throwing out a hand, grabbing her roughly by the arm, and pulling her away from the honking cars that sped past them."_

"He can't be back…"

_Michelle collapsed into Amy's arms, sobbing. "Please," she wept. "Please." Tears leaked down Amy's face as the two girls stumbled to the sidewalk, cars honking as they passed them._

Amy tumbled from the memory, glancing around hurriedly, as Snape stepped forward, baring his arm at the Minister.

"There," he hissed. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a mean of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."

Fudge shook his head, unwilling to believe anything. "I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry." Fudge made to leave the room, before turning, pushing past Amy, who staggered slightly, and dropping a bag of gold onto Harry's bed. "Your winnings," he said gruffly. "One thousand Galleons. There should have been a presentation ceremony, but under the circumstances…" he trailed off, before leaving the infirmary.

As the door closed behind the Minister, Dumbledore turned to the group. "There is work to be done," he said simply. "Molly… am I right in thinking that I can count on you and Arthur?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded solemnly. "Of course you can," she said firmly. "We know what Fudge is. It's Arthur's fondness for Muggles that has held him back at the Ministry all these years. Fudge thinks he lacks proper wizarding pride."

"Then I need to send a message to Arthur," Dumbledore spoke. "All those that we can persuade of the truth must be notified immediately, and he is well placed to contact those at the Ministry who are not a shortsighted as Cornelius." Amy's head was swimming as Dumbledore spoke, her vision darkening slightly, before she regained focus as the infirmary door closed, and Amy found that Bill, Charlie, McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey were gone.

"And now," Dumbledore said, "it is time. Sirius… if you could resume your usual form." Amy stared in confusion at Dumbledore. '_Sirius?'_ From the corner of her eye, Amy saw a new form. She turned to find that in place of the dog, was a tall, dirty man.

Molly jumped back, pointing at him and screaming, "Sirius Black!"

Ron looked around nervously. "Mum, shut up! It's okay!" As Sirius turned, Amy realized where she recognized his previous form. That was the dog that Amy had seen Harry, Ron, and Hermione follow that day in Hogsmeade. '_Sirius Black,' _she thought. _'Notorious mass murderer, who apparently is good.' _ Amy shrugged, _'After what's happened tonight, I'll just accept it.'_

Snape snarled at Sirius; the two obviously had a bad history. Amy watched the two men snap at each other, and she felt the dizziness hit her again. '_That dementor really screwed me up,' _she thought rubbing her forehead tiredly. When she looked up, she saw Sirius hovering over Harry, grasping his hand, and muttering to him, before turning back into his previous dog form.

As Snape and Sirius exited the hospital wing, Charlie reentered. He looked towards Dumbledore exchanging a few words, before his eyes settled on Amy. She looked wearily over at him, but refused to make eye contact. Dumbledore looked wordlessly between the two, before glancing towards Harry's bed, where the others sat.

"I must go downstairs," he announced. "I must see the Diggorys. Harry – take the rest of your potion. I will see you all later." Dumbledore left the room, shutting the door with a snap.

With the others' attention on Harry, Charlie stepped towards Amy, touching her shoulder gently. "Hey," he whispered quietly. She glanced at him briefly. "Are you okay?"

"I-I'm f-fine," she murmured. He felt her struggle to remain upright. "I'm just a little shook up."

A large slam, caused the two to turn around, finding Hermione standing by the window, her hands clutched around something. "Sorry," she whispered.

Across the room, Harry drank the remains of his potion, falling asleep immediately, leaving the room in silence.

Amy glanced around slowly. "I should go," she whispered quietly. Charlie looked at her, worry evident on his face, but he nodded. "Good night," she said louder, careful not to awaken Harry. Mrs. Weasley looked up at her, smiling softly.

"Good night," she answered. Amy looked up at Charlie again, moving slowly passed him. As she walked towards the doors, Amy's vision clouded over again, and she stumbled slightly.

"Amy-" a voice broke off followed by hurried footsteps, as Amy stumbled forward, her eyes rolling back, and she collapsed into a pair of strong arms. She heard gasps, and soft voice murmuring her name, and as she succumbed to the darkness, one words resounded through her head. _"Please."_

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Alright… there it is…. So, Amy's worst memory is connected to Michelle. That memory is actually my worst memory. The girl, who Michelle is based off of, is one of my best friends and she suffers from depression. A couple of months ago, my class went on out on a weekend for an ice skating trip and afterwards, 'Michelle' tried to run into a busy street. I was the one who ran after her, and pulled her away from the street, but it's still scary to think what could have happened…

Anyway, enough with the sob story. 'Michelle's' doing better, and is fully recovered from that incident. Just so you know.

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: **Here's the next chapter! Thanks for all the reviews, hope you guys enjoy!

**AN**2: Sorry about that! I guess I didn't realize that I had copied the document twice. Fanfiction was being weird and wouldn't let me upload any document, so I copied and pasted it into an old story. Sorry for any confusion!

**Dedication: **To my reviews!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

* * *

><p>"<em>Please." <em>The whispers floated through Amy's head as she drifted into consciousness. "_Please, just let me! Please! Let me die!" _As she began to awake, voices entered her mind.

"We're not sure," someone was saying.

"She just stumbled and passed out," another voice added.

"The dementor obviously had an effect on her," a voice broke in.

"Dementors have an effect on everyone, some more than others," someone protested.

"Wait, I think she's wake up," someone said softly. Amy heard the movement of bodies, turning towards her. She desperately wanted to keep her eyes closed, to not have to face the others who were crowded around her, to not have to answer their questions. But she couldn't keep her eyes closed, for fear of the memories returning, for fear that this time she wouldn't save Michelle.

Groggily, Amy's eyes flickered open, squinting against the sunlight that was streaming through the room. Wearily, Amy pushed herself onto her elbows, peering around the brightly lit room. Hovering around her bed was Dumbledore, McGonagall, Mrs. Weasley, and Charlie.

"You gave us quite a scare, Miss Wyman," Dumbledore said quietly, stepping forward.

"I'm fine," Amy broke in, relieved that her voice didn't shake. She sat up straight, despite the protests from her muscles and Mrs. Weasley. "It was just the, it was just everything that happened."

Charlie looked as though he were about to protest when Dumbledore interrupted him.

"Of course," he said cheerily. Amy looked at him weirdly. "Understandable. We should leave you, allow you to rest." He nodded at the crowd around her bed, before leaving, McGonagall following after him, sending Amy a worried look.

As the door closed behind them, Amy pushed the covers off her.

"Amy, what are you doing?" Mrs. Weasley questioned worriedly. She moved as though to push Amy back into bed, but stopped when Amy looked to her.

"I'm resting," she said, sliding her legs out from under the blankets, and standing up. Her eyes were itching, and she rubbed them agitatedly, realizing that she had slept with her contacts in, and they had dried out. "Fantastic," she muttered. She took a moment to steady herself, before glancing down and finding that instead of the jeans and shirt she had been wearing the night of the task, she was instead wearing a set of the hospital's pajamas. "Really?" she asked looking up. "Really?" She shook her head.

"Amy, you're supposed to be resting," Mrs. Weasley said imploringly. Charlie remained silent, watching Amy carefully. "Really, you should be in bed."

Amy looked towards the mother. "I don't rest well in bed," she said, looking for her clothes. She found them folded on a chair near the foot of her bed.

"But isn't that sort of the definition of resting?" Mrs. Weasley questioned, trying to convince the girl to get back into bed. "Aren't you supposed to be in a bed to rest?" Amy glanced at her momentarily, before drawing the curtains closed around her bed, cutting off Molly and Charlie's view of her.

"I'm not one to just sit around and do nothing, Mrs. Weasley," Amy explaining, stripping out of the stiff hospital clothes quickly, and pulling on her wrinkled clothes. Amy pulled a hair tie off her wrist, looping her hair quickly into a messy bun of sorts. She grabbed her shoes from under the chair, and pulled open the curtain. "Here," Amy said, thrusting the pajamas into Mrs. Weasley's hands. "I need to go and rest."

Laughter broke out from a corner of the room. Amy turned to see Harry, sitting up in bed, with Ron and Hermione seated on the edge of his bed. "Hey guys!" she said raising a hand in greeting. Amy moved towards the hospital doors. "Bye guys!" She said, opening the door and closing it quickly behind her. She leaned against the door, listening as the students burst out into another round of laughter.

"Now really," she heard Molly say disapprovingly. "She should really be resting." Amy rolled her eyes. '_Great,' _Amy thought walking down the hall. _'Now there's another motherly figure in my life. Just what I needed.'_

Behind her, Amy heard the hospital doors open, followed by hurried footsteps.

"Amy! Amy!" The professor turned to see Charlie, running towards her. He skidded to a halt in front of her, not even the slightest bit out of breath. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asked, staring into her eyes.

Amy sighed. "Charlie," she said softly. She reached out to grasp his hand. She squeezed his hand gently. "I'm fine," she whispered. "I promise." Charlie nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. He lifted his free hand, gently placing it on her face, rubbing the soft skin with his thumb.

"Amy," he murmured. "Please, be honest with me. Amy, please."

"_Amy, please," she cried. _The echoes were back. _"Please, just let me die." _Amy pulled away from him roughly, her hands clutching her head. "Stop," she muttered. "Make it stop." Charlie stepped towards her, his hands gentle, but firm, on hers. He turned her around, wrapping her protectively in his arms.

Amy kept her hands on her head, ashamed that tears had started to leak from her eyes. She didn't want him to see her so weak. She didn't want him to see the fear in her eyes, as that night flashed repeatedly in her head. The fear, the screams, the honking, the sobbing. She just wanted it to stop. Amy pulled back, wiping hastily at her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Amy said, "but I need to go."

"Amy, wait," Charlie protested, trying to catch her eye, but she stubbornly looked away from him.

"Bye Charlie," Amy said, turning away and running down the empty hallway, leaving Charlie looking after her.

…..

Amy found herself seated at the front table in the Great Hall, staring out into the sea of somber faces. Charlie and Mrs. Weasley were gone, having left several hours after Amy and Charlie said goodbye. That was several days ago. The days had passed in silence, leaving Amy to her thoughts, and she found herself wishing for the days when silence was a foreign word in the school. Amy was haunted by the past few days, by Cedric, by Crouch, by Michelle, by Charlie.

Dumbledore stood and any whispers that were heard in the hall ended. "The end," Dumbledore began, "of another year. There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight, but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here, enjoying our feast with us. I would ask you all, please to sand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory."

Amy stood, along with the rest of the hall, her face void of any emotion. "Cedric Diggory."

"Cedric," Dumbledore continued, "was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff house. He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about."

Amy looked away, knowing what was to come. She pushed her glasses up her nose. After arriving back in her rooms after leaving the hospital wing, Amy found that after having slept in her contacts and the crying, her contacts had dried out and were uncomfortable to wear, forcing her back into her thick framed, blue and black glasses.

"Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort." Panic and horror swept through the hall, and Amy looked at her hands, which were clasped in her hands.

"The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore plowed on, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so – either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory.

"There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Cedric's death. I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter," Dumbledore continued. "Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort. He risked his own life to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor him."

Amy raised her glass to him, whispering his name. When everyone was seated, Dumbledore began again.

"The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened – of Lord Voldemort's return – such ties are more important than ever before. Every guest in this Hall," Dumbledore turned slightly to the Durmstrang students, "will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again – in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as we as we are divided. Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences in habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.

"It is my belief – and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken – that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder."

Dumbledore came to the end of his speech. "A week ago, a student was taken from our midst. Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory."

Dumbledore stepped down from his post, leaving the hall in silence once more, the echoes returning to Amy.

…..

At the end of the feast, Dumbledore stopped Amy from leaving the hall. "Would you mind accompanying me to my office Professor Wyman? I have some things I wish to talk to you about."

Amy nodded silently, following the older wizard out of the hall. They walked in comfortable silence, arriving quickly at the gargoyle entrance to Dumbledore's office.

"Cockroach Clusters!" Dumbledore proclaimed, as the gargoyle revolved, revealing a set of stone steps.

It wasn't until the two entered the office that Dumbledore spoke.

"I understand that you didn't stay long in the Hospital Wing," he said as he seated himself behind the large desk. Amy nodded, choosing to stand rather than sit.

"I get better faster if I am up and about," Amy informed him. "Sitting around makes me feel, well, useless."

"Which is exactly why I asked to speak with you," Dumbledore said. Amy looked at him curiously. "Please sit down." He gestured to the chair before his desk, and Amy sat down, albeit reluctantly.

"In the First Wizarding War," Dumbledore began, "I formed a secret organization, the Order of the Phoenix, whose purpose was to fight against Voldemort and his followers, the Death Eaters.

"When Lord Voldemort was vanquished, this organization dismembered, finding that there was no longer a need for it. With the rise of Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore continued, "and Cornelius Fudge's determination to deny this fact, the wizarding world finds itself, once again, in need of someone who will protect them." Dumbledore stood from his desk, walking the length of the desk before leaning against the front of it, just before Amy.

"On the night of Lord Voldemort's return, I sent word to former members of the Order, but there are few remaining. However, a fellow member has been recruiting from inside the Ministry, searching for those brave enough, and who truly believe in fighting against Voldemort."

Dumbledore looked Amy square in the eye. "I believe you have these qualities Miss Wyman." Amy stared into his serious blue eyes.

"Professor, are you asking me to join this Order?" Amy questioned, a bit surprised that this man had such loyalty in her, despite the fact that he hadn't known her for long. She herself didn't believe she was capable of being much help.

"Miss Wyman," Dumbledore implored, reading her mind, "the loyalty and trust you showed me the night of the third task is why I am asking you to join. You stood beside me even after I told you nothing, staring into the face of a mad man, and then suffering before a dementor on my orders." Amy began to protest, but Dumbledore plowed on.

"I am asking you to join the Order of the Phoenix because I trust you," he finished, staring at her seriously. "I leave the choice up to you."

Amy hesitated for a moment, but she knew in the end what had answer would be. She looked Dumbledore straight in the eye. "Yes," she concluded strongly.

A twinkle entered Dumbledore's eye. "Excellent," he proclaimed, straightening up. "The headquarters has yet to be set up, but I will send word to you once it has been established."

"Professor," Amy broke in, "I'm going back to America for two weeks, on request from my mother. I won't be able to do any work while I'm there."

"Perhaps you can," Dumbledore said thoughtful, rubbing the hair of beard between his fingers. "It is necessary that we have allies in as many countries as possible. If possible, I will ask you to contact some of your classmates from the Salem Witch Academy, but only those you would trust with your life. It is essential that word of the Order not be released to those who could ruin us. Can you do that?"

Amy nodded slowly. "Yes," she answered, "I can."

…..

As Amy explored the corridors of Hogwarts once more, she watched the students bid each other goodbye. Laughter, smiles, and several tears accompanied these goodbyes. She smiled softly, watching as friends boarded their carriages, and she watched them until the last one disappeared, smiling the entire time.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Hope you guys liked it! This isn't the end. There are more chapters coming up, and more Charlie, don't worry! Don't forget to review!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: **Here's the next chapter! Sorry for any confusion anyone may have had in the last chapter. I fixed the mistake in the last chapter, so everything's good.

**Dedication: **To my friend Gabi! Hope you have a wonderful birthday!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

* * *

><p>"Amy! Pay attention! This is serious!" Amy looked up at Georgie, who was staring intensely at her. "Honestly Amy! This is a matter of life and-" she broke off, at the looks she was getting from Michelle and Katherine. "Er- I mean… it's just a figure of speech."<p>

Amy laughed slightly. "I know Georgie," she said turning towards the girl. "What's up?" Georgie glanced briefly at the other girls, before continuing.

"Okay," she said slowly. "This is extremely important." Amy nodded in all seriousness.

"I got that Gie," she said laughing again. Georgie reached behind her pulling out two identical dresses of the same color.

"Which one would look better on me?" She questioned, looking around at the girls seriously. The other three looked at each other for a moment, before roaring with laughter. "Guys!" Georgie cried, stomping her foot, "I'm not kidding!" The girls continued to laugh, holding their sides as they gasped.

"Oh, Georgie," Amy breathed through giggles, "I've missed you!" She gave the frowning girl a hug. "This one," she said when she pulled away, pointing to the one of the left. "Trust me." A smile broke out across Georgie's face.

"Thanks bestie!" she squealed, squishing her tightly. The girls continued to giggle, as she hurried off to change.

"I've missed this," Amy muttered, leaning back into her seat. "I've missed you guys."

Several days had passed since Amy left Hogwarts for the summer, and she had returned to Chicago. Most of the days were spent with the girls, falling easily into a routine. They would meet up at Katherine and Michelle's apartment, and from there they would plan the day. Museums, shopping, the beach, they were trying to fit in as much as they could in the two weeks they had with Amy.

She had told them everything that had happened since she had last seen them, leaving out the part about the dementor and the Order. She was ashamed about what had happened with the dementor, and she didn't want to give them anything that could be held against them, and the Order of the Phoenix was definitely something that could be held against them.

They were horrified to learn what had happened at the last task and tried to restrain themselves from bringing it up, fearing that Amy would crack. While the other girls failed to notice Amy wincing and shuddering when it got quiet, Michelle did, and it worried her.

Michelle glanced around the empty room; Katherine had gone to help Georgie, before scooting next to Amy who was lost in thought.

"Hey Amy," she said softly, drawing Amy's attention to her. Amy looked around the room, finding that she and Michelle were alone. "Umm, you know, I've been wondering something." Amy stared at Michelle curiously. "Have you been holding something back about what happened at Hogwarts?"

Amy's eyes widened slightly, and she tapped her fingers nervously on her thigh. "N-No, of course not, why would you think that?" Amy rambled. Michelle stared at her, reaching her hand across to stop Amy's dancing fingers.

"You're lying," she said simply. She nodded at the now stilled hand. "You tap your fingers like that when you lie." Amy began to protest, but stopped when Amy looked at her. "Amy, what else happened?"

Amy stared painfully into Michelle's eyes, her jaw wobbling slightly. "Do you remember me telling you about dementors?" Amy asked quietly. When Michelle nodded slowly, Amy continued. "The night of the third task, the Minister brought one with him when he came to see Moody's imposter."

"Okay," Michelle prompted. "So, what happened?"

Amy broke her gaze away from her friend. "In the presence of a dementor, every dark memory, every worst moment of your life, returns to you, and you relive the moments. You feel… you feel as though you'll never be happy again, and since that night… it keeps replaying in my head, over and over…"

"What does, Amy?" Michelle whispered, gripping her hand tightly. "What keeps playing?"

Amy looked up at Michelle, tears in her eyes. "The night you tried to kill yourself," she murmured, tears spilling over and down her suntanned face. "The screams, the screeching, the sobs…"

Michelle swallowed the memories of that night in her head. "Amy," she whispered, "that is my worst memory; it shouldn't have to be yours as well. You need to forget."

"But I can't!" she cried, tears streaming down her face. "I can't forget that night, because, because I keep thinking of what could have happened, what would've happened if I hadn't run after you, if I hadn't grabbed you in time." Michelle put her hands on Amy's shoulders shaking her.

"But it didn't," she whispered soothingly, pulling the older girl's head onto her lap. Amy continued to weep softly, as Michelle stroked her hair. "You grabbed me," she said shakily. "You saved me, and I got better. You ran after me, you reached me in time. I am still here, and I promise, I'm not going anywhere soon."

After a few moments, Amy sat up tiredly, wiping at her eyes. "I'm sorry," she muttered, angry at herself. "I shouldn't have said anything."

Michelle laughed, punching Amy slightly in the arm. Amy let out a fake groan, glaring playfully behind glassy eyes. "Stop apologizing, and tell me what happen afterwards."

Amy sighed softly. "Well," Amy began, "after the dementor was sent away, I felt sick and was really weak. That's was during the conversation we had with Fudge." Michelle nodded, remembering the story. "Anyway, I was about to leave the hospital wing, when I couldn't move and my vision blacked out. I passed out," she said quietly.

"The next thing I know, I'm sitting in a hospital bed, surrounded by Dumbledore, another teacher, Charlie, and his mom. As soon as Dumbledore left the room, I was out of there. You know I can't stand hospitals." Amy grew silent as she remembered what happened next. How Charlie had tried to help her, and she pushed him away, afraid that he would find her weak. "Charlie came after me. He tried to comfort me, find out what had happened, but… but I left him alone, I left him in the hallway, and I haven't spoken to him since."

Amy looked up at Michelle again. "I-I wish I hadn't, I wish I hadn't left him standing there," she whispered. "His face when I said goodbye, it's-it's just as bad as the memories."

"Well," Michelle broke in slowly, "there's only one thing you can do then." Amy stared curiously at Michelle. "Find him, jump him, make the fuck out with him, and get passed the middle school flirting." Amy's jaw dropped.

"Well, that's probably not the best way to kiss a guy," Michelle shrugged, "but hey, if that's what works for you." Amy laughed, shoving Michelle, who laughed with her. "I'm joking! I'm joking!"

The two continued to laugh, growing quiet as Katherine and Georgie came back into the room.

"Thanks," Amy said softly to Michelle, who looked at her, smiling softly.

"No problem, Boo," Michelle replied.

…..

The next two weeks passed in a flurry of laughter, jokes, and all around fun. Between spending time with her friends and family, Amy sent letters and met up with old classmates, who she knew would be able to keep the secret of the Order. All of them had heard what was going on in England and were willing to help, as long as when it was time for war, something that Dumbledore had assured her would happen, that they would be able to help.

When the end of her two weeks in Chicago came about, Amy packed up, knowing that she needed to get back to England and officially begin her work with the Order.

"Don't forget to write!" her mother said, squeezing Amy tightly. "I expect weekly updates!"

"Of course Mom," Amy answered dutifully, knowing that there would probably be weeks between letters. It was tradition really.

"Don't do anything stupid," her mom said, pulling back to look her youngest in the eye. "I'm serious."

"Mom," Amy broke in. "I really need to go now."

"Oh, I know," her mom said, pulling her into another hug.

"Really Ann," Amy's father interrupted, pulling her arms off of Amy. "Amy really needs to go." Amy looked gratefully at her dad.

"I'll see you around Christmas time," Amy promised, grabbing her bag from the floor. "Bye!" Amy exited through the backyard, heading into the alley, where she could Apparate with little chance of being seen.

She glanced left and right, making sure that the alley was empty, before securing her side bag around her, and turning on the spot, her London flat pictured in her mind.

Because her apartment was in Muggle London, Amy Apparated directly into the front room. It was close to eight at night, the summer sun just beginning to set, casting a glow of red and orange into the dark room. She waved her wand, the lights of the flat turning on. It was nice to be back in the quiet of her apartment, away from her parents and the laughter of her friends. Amy was also relieved that despite the silence, the echoes had not returned. Talking to Michelle had helped Amy overcome the memories, at least for the time being.

Amy sighed, setting her bag onto the floor before flopping onto the couch, sinking into the cushions. Amy noted a thin layer of dust lying around her apartment. She waved her wand, muttering a quick spell, and within moments, her home was sparkling clean, accompanied with that clean house smell of lemons. Breathing in the citrusy scent, Amy rested her head against the back of the couch, her new bangs flopped in her eyes. Just before she had left Chicago, Georgie and the others decided that Amy needed a new hairstyle and new clothes. Her hair was still as curly as ever, but was softer and fell into sleek layers, reaching just below shoulders.

Michelle tried to convince her to dye her hair to a dark red, but that idea was quickly shot down by Katherine and Georgie, who said that even though red looked good on her, it wouldn't look as good on Amy.

As an obnoxious tapping broke through the silence, Amy opened her eyes blearily to see a brown owl sitting in the window. Amy groaned, pushing herself off the cushions and towards the window. She unclasped the lock, pulling the glass pane open. She leaned against the window sill, looking tiredly at the bird. "Who are you from?" she asked softly, pulling a letter from the owl. It gave a small hoot, before turning and flying away, leaving Amy staring after it.

Amy opened the letter, finding inside a note from Dumbledore, written in his precise cursive.

_Please go to the following address at six tomorrow evening. Bring along the following address. Do not allow this note to fall into the hands of anyone else. –Albus Dumbledore_

Amy read this quickly, soaking in the short message. Inside of the envelope was a scrap of paper. Written on it was:

_The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London._

'_Well,' _Amy thought, folding the letter into shorts. '_I guess this is the beginning of my work with the Order.'_

…..

The next day passed quickly, and Amy found herself standing outside Grimmauld place, but not number twelve. Number twelve, as it seemed, didn't exist. There appeared to only be eleven and thirteen; twelve was mysteriously missing. Amy sighed, before pulling out the scrap paper again.

"It says right here," Amy muttered to herself. "Number twelve, Grimmauld place." Amy sighed, frustrated. She crumpled up the paper, shoving it into the pocket of her jean. She moved as though to walk away, when a motion from the corner of her eye made her turn.

A door had appeared between the two houses, followed by dirt stained windows and walls. Amy took a step closer, realizing what had happened. '_Of course,' _Amy thought to herself. '_There's a charm on the house to keep it out of sight from those not in the Order.' _Amy looked around her, before hurrying up the steps of the house. She reached up to ring the doorbell, when the door opened, a wand pointed at her.

"Who are you?" a low voice asked. Amy looked around hesitantly, peering into the doorway, seeking the face of the speaker.

"Amy Wyman," she answered slowly. "Who are you?"

The speaker ignored her question and instead voiced their own. "Why are you here?"

Amy blinked in confusion. "Albus Dumbledore sent me a message telling me to arrive here at six," she replied.

The door opened wider, showing the face of a man, with tired eyes and grey in his hair. "Please come inside," he said. Amy glanced around once more, before stepping inside the dark hall. She looked around the dreary hall, the silence of the house weighing down on her. "I'm sure you understand," the man said, stepping around Amy. "We have to be careful about who we let in. Dumbledore told me that you would be arriving. I'm Remus Lupin." He held out a hand to her. She grasped it, shaking it firmly.

"Amy Wyman," she repeated. Remus released her hand, leading her down the hall, the dimly lit lights casting shadows on their path.

"The meeting is going to be starting in about half an hour," he told her quietly, "but some of the members are already here." Amy nodded, continuing to look around the hall. "By the way," Remus added, looking back at the younger girl. "You should always be quiet while in the halls. You don't want to wake anything."

Amy nodded slowly. "Wake anything?" she asked softly. She glanced around at the house-elf heads that decorated the walls. "Right."

The pair reached the end of the hall, where a door was cracked open slightly. Remus pushed it open, allowing Amy to enter first. She glanced back momentarily to see him close the door quietly, before she turned back to the room.

It was a large, stone room complete with a roaring fireplace. At a quick glance, Amy saw that the room served as both a kitchen and a dining room. At one side of the room was a stove and many pots and pans hung from the rafters. At the other end of the room a large wooden table and seated around it were a group of people.

Amy recognized several of them, McGonagall, Moody, Sirius Black, several Weasleys, but the majority of them were unknown to Amy.

"Professor Wyman!" Mrs. Weasley stood up from her seat, walking over to her. "Albus said you would be coming, but I wasn't sure when! Please, come sit down. Can I get you anything? Tea?"

Amy interrupted her, before she could continue in her motherly rambling. "No, thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Amy insisted. "I'm not really one for tea. I may live in England, but I'm still American."

Mrs. Weasley laughed slightly, pulling Amy over to the table and pushing her into a chair. "Of course, of course," she said. "I believe introductions are in order though." Before Amy could say anything, Molly pressed on.

"You, of course know the professors, my son Bill," she started, "I believe you know Sirius." Sirius looked at her questioningly, before nodding.

"You were there with us in the hospital wing," he stated. Amy nodded slightly, and Molly continued on.

"My husband, Arthur," she pointed to a balding redheaded man beside Bill, who smiled at her, "Kingsley Shacklebolt," she said pointing to a tall black man, who raised a hand in greeting, "Elphias Doge," an old wizard, "Dedalus Diggle," a short, happy wizard, "Emmeline Vance," a very regal looking witch, "Sturgis Podmore," a blonde, strong jawed man, who winked at Amy slightly, "Hestia Jones," a dark haired, friendly-looking witch, "and…" Molly trailed off, looking around the table. "Where's Tonks?"

"Right here!" said a chipper voice from behind Amy, who turned in her seat to see a purple headed witch enter the room, carrying several scrolls in her arms. "Charlie and I were just catching up." She nodded her head behind her, towards Charlie Weasley who had just entered the room, still as strong and attractive as ever, and Amy felt her throat tighten ever so slightly.

Charlie looked as though he was about to say something, when Tonks suddenly tripped over, what seemed to be, thin air, the scrolls tumbling from her arms, as she fell to the floor.

"Woops," she muttered. Amy stood to help her up at the same time that Charlie approached the fallen witch. Their eyes met for a moment, before Amy looked away quickly, instead stooping to pick up the papers that were sprawled across the floor. Charlie leaned down to pick up the blushing witch, helping her to her feet, as she brushed away the dirt and soot. "Sorry," she muttered, obviously embarrassed.

As Tonks brushed herself off, Charlie stared slightly at Amy. Several weeks had passed since the last time he had seen her, and her hair was shorter and was lighter, showing that she had spent some time in the sun, her tanned skin adding to the assumption. As she straightened up, the back of her shirt rode up a bit, and Charlie looked away. He turned back to her as she placed the retrieved scrolls neatly on the table, and Charlie realized just how much he missed her. They hadn't known each other very long, but there was something about her, that drew him to her. Perhaps it was her wit, or her intelligence, or her laugh, or her beauty, or the way… Charlie shook his head of the thoughts, burrowing them away. This was neither the time nor the place.

"Amy Wyman," she said, holding out a hand to Tonks, who shook her hand.

"Tonks," she replied smiling. The two sat down, leaving Charlie standing alone, as the room filled with soft chatter.

"Charlie!" Bill called, gesturing with his head. "Get over here." Charlie glanced again at Amy, before walking the length of the table and sitting next to his only older brother.

Amy looked at him from the corner of her eye, before returning to the conversation she and Tonks were having.

Bill turned to his younger brother. "What was that?" he asked quietly. Charlie looked up at him.

"What was what?" he questioned innocently. Bill sent him a look, and Charlie felt his resolve begin to crumble a little.

"I saw that look you gave her," Bill whispered smugly. "You're in love." Charlie looked around quickly, making sure that no one had heard him. He punched his brother lightly in the arm.

"No, I'm not," he said hurriedly. "We're just," he struggled to find a word, "friends of sorts."

"Friends with benefits?" Bill asked curiously, glancing appraisingly at the younger witch. "She is very attractive."

"Hey," Charlie broke in, drawing his brother's attention away from Amy, "eyes over here, or I might just drop a line to, oh what's her name," he tapped his chin in a mock thoughtful way as Bill turned hastily to him. "Oh right, Meez Fleur Delacour, that she isn't the only witch you've been looking at," he answered in a horrible French accent.

"You wouldn't," Bill hissed, panic in his eyes as his little joke was turned on him. Charlie narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Just keep your eyes off her, and there'll be no trouble," Charlie hissed back. Bill nodded quickly, and the brothers fell into silence. Bill looked at his younger brother, who was glancing hesitantly at the girl at the other end of the table. Bill wasn't lying when he said she was attractive, it was blatantly obvious. She was very fit, had bright laughing eyes, touchably-soft looking hair, not to mention, she was curvy in all of the right places. But it wasn't only her looks that made her attractive. She knew how to laugh, something Bill had noticed immediately the first time he met her, and from what he had seen in the Hospital Wing, that night with Fudge, she knew how to stand up for, not only herself, but others. She was level-headed, down to earth, and didn't seem overly girly. Charlie and she got along amazingly, from what Bill had seen, and it was obvious the sparks that flew between them, something he noticed that Molly Weasley had picked up on as well. Bill thought that she was quite a match with his brother, almost perfect.

"For the record," Bill said softly, breaking through the silence, and drawing Charlie's attention away from Amy, "I think you two would make a bloody brilliant couple." Charlie smiled slightly, glancing again at the witch, who was laughing at something Tonks had said.

"Thanks," he said just as quietly. "We just need to get past the awkwardness of the last time we saw each other," he grumbled. Bill laughed, clasping his brother on the shoulder.

"Yeah," he said. "Good luck with that!"

Several minutes later, the meeting began, and Amy sat back in her seat, listening to the conversation at hand. Mr. Weasley was looking for volunteers to take up guard of a secret weapon that Dumbledore felt was (1) in need of protection, (2) it was located inside the Ministry, (3) wanted by Voldemort, and (4) essential to Voldemort's downfall. At least, that's what Amy had gathered from the other members. No one had really given her a walkthrough on what had been happening really, she just had to pull from what she heard and from what she had heard, she found that there was a major flaw.

"Excuse me," Amy interrupted, "but it doesn't make much sense does it?"

"What doesn't make sense?" Arthur asked looking at her.

"It doesn't make sense to have people stand guard over this weapon," Amy started, "in the Ministry, if those people don't even work at the Ministry." Several members looked at each other, before back at Amy.

"I'm not sure I follow," Podmore said slowly, and Amy refrained herself from rolling her eyes.

"If you send someone, who doesn't work for the Ministry, to guard this weapon, at the Ministry," Amy stressed, "and they are found, or caught, or captured, or whatever verb you want to use, than don't you think the Ministry will find it odd that they are even in Ministry of Magic in the first place? And don't you think that will lead to them investigating more deeply into the reason that person was there in the first place?

"Wouldn't it make more sense to only have people who are Ministry officials guard this weapon seeing as if they are found than at least they have a reason to be inside the Ministry at all?" Amy finished, staring around the table. It was rather silent, and Amy felt slightly uncomfortable. '_Maybe, I shouldn't have said anything,' _she though awkwardly.

"She's got a point," Sirius broke in, breaking the silence. "It doesn't make much sense to send someone in who doesn't work for the Ministry. It would be almost as bad as sending me in." Chuckles filled the room, and Sirius sent Amy a small grin.

The rest of the meeting passed relatively peacefully, and Amy was surprised when Molly announced the end of the meeting. As everyone else stood, stretching and talking, Amy grabbed her bag, which she had slung around her chair, and straightened up. She raised a brief hand at Tonks, who yawned loudly.

Amy made for the kitchen door, when Molly stepped in front of her.

"Professor!" she said, preventing Amy from leaving. "You should really stay for dinner! I'm making stew!"

"Oh, really Mrs. Weasley," Amy protested, trying to step around the woman, "I really can't."

"But I insist!" she cried imploringly, grabbing the girl's arm and trying to drag her back to the table. "I'm sure the kids would love to see you!" Amy glanced over towards Charlie who was talking with Tonks, the two laughing and joking around, obviously enjoying each other's company. Amy felt her stomach clench unpleasantly, and she pulled her wrist from Molly's grasp.

"I'm really sorry, Mrs. Weasley," Amy apologized, tapping her leg slightly, "but I made plans to meet up with someone, and I really shouldn't keep him waiting. Maybe another time?" Charlie glanced over at her, having heard the end of the conversation and his stomach fell slightly. Molly nodded slightly crestfallen, glancing between her second oldest and the professor.

"Of course, dear," Molly said softly. "Maybe another time." Amy smiled faintly, before turning around, and exiting the room. Molly heard the front door close moments later, and she sighed. She looked towards Charlie again, who was still talking to Tonks, who was staring over towards Sirius and Remus. Their conversation was nowhere near as animated as it had been moments before.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>Well, there you go! Chapter fourteen... So, you got to see more of the besties, talked to Michelle, Amy joined the Order, saw Charlie... maybe got a little jealous... don't worry, nothing happens between the two. I just figure that since Charlie and Tonks went to Hogwarts together (same year, different houses) that they were probably friends. At least, for my story they're friends. Hope you enjoyed it! Don't forget to review!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	15. Chapter 15

**AN:** Here's the next chapter. I think it's boring, but I'm not 100% positive... anyway... just read it.

**Dedication: **To my buddy James! Happy birthday!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

* * *

><p>The next two weeks passed in very much the same way. Amy would attend the meetings, avoiding Charlie at all costs, while also trying to avoid Molly Weasley, who was determined to get Amy to stay for dinner. When Molly did catch Amy, she was quick to come up with some lie. "I already have plans." "I have a date." "I'm feeling a bit under the weather." "My cat's ill." "My cat died." "I'm getting a new cat." "My new cat died."<p>

Molly could tell that most of these were lies, at least she hoped they were, for the cats' sake and Charlie's, but she couldn't exactly call Amy out on this, and she couldn't force her to stay for dinner seeing as Amy wasn't one of her surrogate children…yet… but Molly was working on it. She had seen the way Charlie looked at the young professor, and it wasn't hard to miss the looks that Amy sent Charlie, but the two seemed determined to avoid each other.

The meeting ended like every other, everyone stretching and moving about, talking to each other, and Amy rushing for the door only to be chased after by Molly. Before Molly could open her lips however, a flash of light burst through the room, and in its wake, a letter fluttered to the floor. The occupants stared at it before Remus stepped forward, picking the paper up.

He read through it hastily, his eyes widening in shock.

"Remus, what is it?" Molly asked cautiously. He looked up nervously, folding the letter in his hands.

"Harry was attacked by dementors," he said slowly. The room burst out into cries of shock. Sirius stepped forward, ripping the letter from Remus and reading through it. He crumpled it up in anger and threw it at the ground. "He's been expelled for using magic in front of Muggles," Remus continued.

"Wait, but I thought Mundungus was watching him," Amy broke in hurriedly. "Wasn't he supposed to be there to make sure Harry _didn't _use magic?"

"Well, obviously he was off making another one his deals," Molly said bitterly.

"What's going to happen?" Charlie asked, stepping next to his mother. Amy glanced at him for a moment before looking away towards Remus.

"It said that he's been expelled," Remus said. Gasps resounded through the room, and Amy shook her head. She stooped down to pick up the letter, smoothing out the wrinkles and scanning the message. She frowned, her forehead furrowed in thought. As the others argued over what was going to happen, Charlie shifted over towards Amy, reading over her shoulder.

It was brief and to the point, and didn't go into details. At the bottom of the page, scrawled in the corner, were the initials A.W.

"They can't do this though," Amy said not noticing Charlie behind her. "He was defending himself! They can't expel him for protecting himself from the damn dementors."

"Try telling the Ministry that," Sirius spat, glaring at Amy. He was obvious upset about what had happened to his godson and was taking it out on anyone who crossed him.

Another burst of smoke, shot through the room, breaking through the silence. Amy jumped slightly, surprised, and she took a small step back, backing into Charlie. She looked up at the same moment that Charlie put a hand on her waist to steady her. Their eyes met for a moment before the two stepped away from each other, red creeping up their faces slightly.

Remus grabbed the paper from the air again, scanning through it quickly. Relief crossed his face. "Dumbledore's taking care of things. He's gone down to the Ministry," he informed them. Sighs of relief filled the room. "He'll fix this up, but we need to get Harry out of there, and soon."

The members of the Order seated themselves around the table once more, forming a plan to break Harry out.

…..

Three days later, a group of Order members set out to Privet Drive. They were all to Apparate into the kitchen, to avoid being seen by any Muggles. Tonks had assured them that Harry's relatives, who Amy had learned weren't exactly fond of magic, would not be home.

The house was silent when they arrived. No one moved afraid to break the silence and freak Harry out. They stood still for a moment, glancing around the pristine kitchen. Amy moved from the middle of the group, moving slowly and carefully towards the window, looking out it for a moment, before pulling the lacy curtains together. She stepped back silently, when from behind her a crash resounded through the room.

Amy spun on her heel, the group turning to see Tonks standing over a pile of glass. There was silence for a few moments, and Tonks looked up. "Oops."

"Tonks," Moody hissed. "What part about 'Don't touch anything part' do you not understand?"

"Apparently," Amy snorted through her giggles, "the part about not touching." Moody glared at her, as Tonks looked up sheepishly, her turning red in her embarrassment. As the Order members moved up the stairs, Amy fell to the back to the group, next to Tonks. The two had become rather close, sitting next to each other in meetings, and trying their hardest not to laugh at Moody, in all his seriousness. "At least it wasn't a priceless vase," Amy teased lightly. Tonks looked over at her, brightening up, her hair returning to its vibrant purple. She held her head a little higher, pushing her way forward a little. Amy smiled fondly at the girl, following in her wake.

The second floor was as quiet as the first, and all of the rooms appeared to be empty, seeing as all of the doors were opened, except for one, that was shut firmly. The group slowed to a halt as Moody waved his wand, a click resonating through the house. Moments passed before the door slowly creaked open, a teenager standing in the door's shadow, his wand raised high in the darkness.

"Lower you wand, boy, before you take someone's eye out," Moody growled from Amy's right. The boy did nothing.

"Professor Moody?" his voice questioned, uncertainty laced in his words.

"I don't know so much about 'Professor,' Moodly grumbled back, "never got round to much teaching, did I? Get over here, we want to see you properly." The teen lowered his wand slightly, but not all the way, stepping slowly from the darkness of the room.

From behind Tonks, Remus stepped forward slightly. "It's alright, Harry. We've come to take you away." Harry's wand dropped several more inches.

"P-Professor Lupin?" he asked. "Is that you?"

"Why are we all standing in the dark?" Tonks inquired in frustration. "_Lumos." _Tonks's wand lit up, bathing the hall in a silvery glow. Amy looked at Harry, finding that despite the fact that he looked as though he had grown several inches, and hadn't been fed much, he looked fine.

Amy glanced over at the impatient witch. "You realize we're trying to keep our being here a secret?" Amy asked quietly. "Right?"

"I know," Tonks said back, "but really, who wants to talk in the dark?" Amy shook her head laughingly.

"Professor Wyman?" Harry asked, peeking over Moody's shoulder. Amy raised her hand, waving it slightly.

"Hey Harry," she greeted smilingly.

"Oooh, he looks just like I thought he would," Tonks said brightly. "Wotcher, Harry!"

"Yeah, I see what you mean Remus," Kingsley said from the back. "He looks exactly like James."

"Except the eyes," Elphias spoke up. "Lily's eyes." Through the whispers about Harry, Moody stepped forward, eyeing the boy intently.

"Are you quite sure it's him?" he muttered. "It'd be a nice lookout if we bring back some Death Eater impersonating him. We ought to ask him something only the real Potter would know. Unless anyone brought any Veritaserum?"

Amy rolled her eyes. Ever since Moody had been impersonated, he had been as paranoid as ever, although Amy knew where he was coming from. Before Amy could speak up, Lupin interrupted her.

"Harry, what form does your Patronus take?" he questioned.

"A stag," Harry said uncertainly.

Remus nodded. "That's him, Mad-Eye," Remus said definitely. Harry stepped further out into the hall, slipping his wand into his pocket.

"Don't put your wand there, boy!" Moody cried angrily. "What if it ignited? Better wizards than you have lost buttocks, you know!"

"Who d'you know who's lost a buttock?" Tonks questioned.

"Care to share, Mad-Eye?" Amy asked, a grin forming on her face. "Anyone we know?"

"Never you mind, you just keep your wand out of your back pocket!" Moody grumbled. The two witches exchanged glances, snickering softly as Moody turned and began down the steps, muttering, "Elementary wand safety, nobody bothers about it anymore…" Tonks rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at Moody's back. "I saw that!" he cried from downstairs.

Tonks frowned slightly as Amy snorted, before the two turned back to face Harry, who was shaking hands with Remus.

"How are you?" Remus asked him.

"F-Fine," Harry stuttered slightly. He looked awkwardly around at the Order members who had formed a small circle around the boy. Amy rolled her eyes at the blatant signs of starstruckness.

Amy pushed her way through the circle. "Come on, Harry," Amy said, gesturing towards the steps, "we should talk downstairs."

As the group moved towards the stairs, Harry continued to talk, still obviously in shock over what was happening. "I'm-you're really lucky the Dursleys are out," Harry rambled.

Tonks snorted. "Lucky, ha! It was me that lured them out of the way. Sent a letter by Muggle post telling them they'd been short-listed for the All-England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition. They're heading off to the prize-giving right now… or they think they are."

"We are leaving, aren't we?" Harry asked imploringly, as the group walked onto the first floor of the house.

"Almost at once," Lupin answered, "we're just waiting for the all-clear."

"Where are we going? The Burrow?" Amy could hear hope in his voice.

"Not the Burrow," Amy said softly. "It's too risky, so we've set up headquarters somewhere else. It's taken a while." The group entered the kitchen, where Moody was waiting for them, sitting at the small table.

Lupin took control of the introductions. "This is Alastor Moody, Harry," Lupin said, gesturing at Moody.

"Yeah, I know," Harry replied awkwardly.

Lupin turned to Tonks. "And this is Nymphadora-" Tonks cut him off.

"_Don't _call me Nymphadora, Remus," Tonks demanded, staring at him evenly. "It's Tonks."

"- Nymphadora Tonks, who prefers to be known by her surname only," Remus continued with a pointed look at her.

"So would you if your fool of a mother had called you Nymphadora," Tonks muttered to Amy.

"It could be worse," Amy whispered back. Tonks sent her a disbelieving look, as though saying, "Yeah, right." Amy took this challenge, as Remus continued with the introductions.

"Dunkins, Dorcas, Apple, Jazz Domino, Ocean, Rocket, Satchel, Sparkle-"

"Sparkle is not a real name!" Tonks hissed at her.

"You wanna bet?" Amy whispered back. Before Tonks could reply, Remus cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to the conversation at hand.

"A surprising number of people volunteered to come and get you," Remus explained.

"Yeah, well, the more the better," Moody broke in. "We're your guard, Potter."

"We're just waiting for the signal to tell us it's safe to set off," Remus continued. "We've got about fifteen minutes."

"Very _clean_ aren't they, these Muggles?" Tonks asked.

"Well, we can't all be as disorganized as you," Amy teased. Tonks sent her a disgruntled look.

"I'm not that messy," she muttered.

"Damn it," Moody muttered. The witches turned to see Moody pull his magical eye from its socket. Amy wrinkled her nose a little. "It keeps sticking – ever since that scrum wore it."

"That's delightful, Mad-Eye," Amy said. "Delightful."

"Actually, it's rather disgusting," Tonks said brightly. "I don't know what you're talking about, Wyman."

"Get me a glass of water, would you, Harry?" Moody broke in. Harry opened up the dishwasher, pulling out an almost sparkling glass, filling it with water and handing it to Moody. "Cheers!" Moody dropped the magic blue eye into the glass, where it spun around incessantly. "I want three-hundred-and-sixty degrees visibility on the return journey."

"How're we getting – wherever we're going?" Harry questioned. It seemed as though he was still slightly put off by the arrival of the Order members.

"Brooms," Lupin replied. "Only way. You're too young to Apparate, they'll be watching the Floo Network, and it's more than our life's worth to set up an unauthorized Portkey."

"Remus says you're a good flier," Kingsley added.

"He's excellent," Lupin answered, Amy nodding her agreement. "Anyway, you'd better go and get packed, Harry, we want to be ready to go when the signal comes."

"I'll come and help you," Tonks said, jumping up and following Harry up the stairs. Out of the corner of her eye, Amy saw Remus stare after her for a moment, before quickly turning back to the group.

"Remember the plan," he stressed, before pulling out a piece of paper and quill, beginning, what was sure to be, a very short letter to the Dursleys. Amy leaned against the front of sink, taking in the kitchen and the living room. It was all clean. Uncomfortably clean. She was afraid to touch anything in fear that she would leave behind a mark on the pristine home.

As Lupin finished the letter, Tonks and Harry made their way down the stairs, toting Harry's rucksack, owl, and broom with them. Amy glanced at Tonks, her eyebrows rising slightly.

"Pink?" she asked. She surveyed the girl's new hair. "It suits you."

"Excellent," Lupin said, looking briefly at Tonks, before back at Harry. "We've got about a minute, I think. We should probably get out into the garden so we're ready. Harry, I've left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry-"

"They won't," Harry broke in.

"That you're safe-"

"That'll just depress them." Amy snorted.

"-and you'll see them next summer."

"Do I have to?" Amy smiled, at the boy.

"Come here, boy," Moody growled, pulling his wand from his sleeve. "I need to Disillusion you."

"You need to what?" Harry asked walking towards Moody, despite his apprehension.

"It's a charm that will allow you to become almost invisible," Amy offered as Moody cast the spell. "You'll sort of blend into the background."

"Come on," Moody said, opening the backdoor. The group followed Moody into the backyard, where he began giving orders.

"Clear night. Could've done with a bit more cloud over. Right, you," he pointed at Harry, "we're going to be flying in close formation. Tonks'll be right in front of you, keep close on her tail. Lupin'll be covering you from below. I'm going to be behind you. The rest'll be circling us. We don't break ranks for anything, got me? If one of us is killed-"

"Is that likely?" Harry broke in nervously. Moody continued, but Amy caught Harry's eye, shaking her head. "He's crazy," she mouthed to him.

"Stop being so cheerful, Mad-Eye," Tonks called from where she was strapping Harry's luggage onto her broom. "He'll think we're not taking this seriously."

"I'm just telling the boy the plan," Moody pressed. "Our job's to deliver him safely to headquarters and if we die in the attempt-"

"No one's going to die," Kingsley broke in with him booming voice.

"Yeah, Moody, stop being so melodramatic," Amy chimed.

"Mount your brooms, that's the first signal!" Lupin cried softly. Amy looked up as she mounted her broom to see red sparks illuminated in the evening sky. "Second signal, let's go!"

Amy kicked off from the ground, the wind pulling at her clothes as she circled around Harry. They continued to gain more height as Moody barked orders at them, telling them what to do at every moment.

"We're not going through clouds!" Tonks cried from somewhere in front of Amy. "We'll get soaked Mad-Eye!" Amy shook her head at this, knowing that Mad-Eye would've tried to get them to do something like that.

As the continued to fly, it grew colder, and Amy shook slightly in her summer clothes. At least she had been smart enough not to wear a dress. The group flew for an hour or so, complaining the entire way, as Moody made them go off course again and again, to ensure they weren't being followed.

"We ought to double back for a bit, just to make sure we're not being followed!" he shouted to the group.

"ARE YOU MAD, MAD-EYE?" Tonks screeched.

Below them, Amy saw their destination approaching. "YOU CAN DO THAT MAD-EYE!" she screamed. "WE'RE STARTING OUR DESCENT!" Amy, who was now at the front of the group, went into a dive, hearing Lupin shout the orders back.

They touched down on the grass across the street from the headquarters, all of them shaking and shivering.

"Where are we?" Harry asked quietly. Remus whispered something back to him as Mad-Eye stepped forward, pulling out a piece of metal. He clicked it and the streetlights began to go out in a series of pops.

"Borrow it from Dumbledore," Moody muttered to Amy. "That'll take care of any Muggles looking out of the window, see? Now, come on, quick." The moved hurriedly across the street, stopping in front of the place where number eleven and number thirteen met. Moody pulled out a slip of paper, thrusting it into Harry's hand.

"Here," he commanded. "Read quickly and memorize." Harry looked at the paper, reading it with a furrowed brow before looking up.

"What's the Order of the-?"

"Not here, boy!" Moody hissed. "Wait till we're inside!" Moody grabbed the paper back from Harry, burning it with the tip of his wand.

"But where's-?" Harry began again.

"Think about what you've just memorized," Lupin whispered to Harry. The group stood there for a moment before the door of the headquarters appeared between the door houses, followed by its dirty walls and windows.

Amy poked Harry lightly in the back, gesturing for him to walk up the stairs. The two followed Remus, who tapped his wand on the door, unlocking it.

"Get in quick, Harry," Lupin demanded. "But don't go far inside and don't touch anything," he warned. Harry entered the house, Amy close behind him, making sure he didn't go too far; it wouldn't be good if Harry woke anything up. Amy didn't want to have to deal with that again. Once was surely enough.

Behind her, Amy heard Moody remove the Disillusionment Charm from Harry. Moody whispered something, and light burst into the room, driving away the shadows from the dark hallway. As the hall filled with a soft glow, Molly came hurrying down the hall, smiling brightly.

"Oh, Harry, it's lovely to see you!" Molly whispered, pulling Harry into a warm embrace. She pulled back examining the boy. "You're looking peaky; you need feeding up, but you'll have to wait for dinner, I'm afraid..." Molly turned to the Order members. "He's just arrived, the meeting's started," she whispered to them.

"Fantastic," Amy muttered to Tonks. "My _favorite _person." Tonks snorted as they walked towards the kitchen. As Amy pushed open the door, she breathed in the warmth that the fireplace offered, it was nice after flying in the freezing sky. She glanced towards the table, where the other members of the Order were seated.

Snape stood at the head of the table, talking loudly, with a smug look on his face. Sirius was glaring at him from his seat, next to him Mundungus was sleeping. Snape stopped briefly to sneer at the newly arrived members, and Amy shot Tonks a look, before taking her seat at the table. Molly hurried in several moments later, seating herself next to her husband.

Snape resumed his speech, explaining to them the importance of what they were guarding at the Ministry.

"The Dark Lord," he was saying, "will not try to enter the Ministry himself, but instead will send in his followers to do his bidding. It is essential that there be someone guarding the weapon at all times."

Amy sighed. While everyone else believed that this was all new information, Amy had heard this all before. In almost every presentation Snape gave, this information was always said just in different words, and it was beginning to get extremely boring.

Amy glanced over at Charlie for a moment, watching his profile. She bit her lip gently, tracing his strong jaw slightly. She hadn't spoken much to him, mainly an 'excuse me,' or 'hello', never a conversation like they used to have. It was slightly disconcerting since they had gotten along so well, but now everything was weird. It was probably from the last time they had really talked, the day she left the hospital wing, but Amy also felt it might be from the connection Tonks and Charlie had. They got along extremely well, and almost always seemed to be joking and laughing about something. She wasn't really surprised, Tonks was dynamic and interesting, and it was really no surprise that Charlie would be interested in her.

Amy looked away, a look of sadness crossing her face briefly. As she turned away, Charlie looked over at her, catching the flash of emotion on his face. He furrowed his brow slightly in concern, before turning back to Snape, who was coming to the end of his very long spiel.

"That's all Professor Dumbledore has asked me to disclose with you," Snape said, stepping away from the table, and walking towards the door. Several of the members started after him, asking him questions along the way.

"Well," she started, "I guess that's the end of the meeting. If any of you would like to stay for dinner, you're more than welcome." She glanced pointedly at Amy, who looked away quickly. As Mrs. Weasley exited the room, presumably to go and get the kids from upstairs, Amy got up, grabbing her bag from her chair. She made for the door only to find a pile of dungbombs sitting beside the doorway. She glanced at them momentarily, edging around them, not wanting to set them off.

"Professor Wyman!" a voice called quietly. Amy looked up to see Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the Twins smiling at her from the stairs.

"Are you staying for dinner?" Ginny asked eagerly as they continued down the stairs. Before Amy could think of an excuse on not to stay, a crash resounded through the hallway.

Amy whirled around to see Tonks sprawled on the floor of the now empty hallway, a large umbrella stand rolling around on the floor.

"_Tonks!" _Mrs. Weasley cried. Amy let out a soft laugh before approaching Tonks, offering her a hand.

"I'm sorry!" Tonks cried, brushing herself off. "It's that stupid umbrella stand, that's the second time I've tripped over it!"

Amy laughed again, breaking off as a loud, hair-raising scream filled the house. Amy groaned, spinning towards the howling portrait of the woman. Lupin appeared beside her, grabbing one side of the curtains as Amy grabbed the other side, tugging on them, trying to close them.

"_Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers!"_

"Yeah, yeah!" Amy cried, pulling as hard as she could on the curtains. "We get it!" From the corner of her eye, she saw Sirius come towards them. Amy stepped back so he could take the rein.

"Shut up, you horrible old hag, shut UP!" He screamed, grabbing the curtain Amy had released. The woman in the portrait's eyes widened, and she continued to scream at him. Amy took this as a chance to escape. She grabbed her dropped bag from the floor and tried sneaking towards the door.

Behind her, Amy heard Sirius roar something at the portrait of his mother, followed by the silence as he finally managed to close the curtains. She heard him turn to Harry, talking quietly to him.

She was almost to the door when she heard Mrs. Weasley call out to her, "Professor, you really should stay for dinner." Followed by a course of agreement from the Twins and Ginny.

Amy froze, knowing that if the kids wanted her to stay, and she didn't, she would never hear the end of it. "Dammit," she whispered, biting her tongue. She turned slowly on her heel, a fake smile gracing her face.

"Of course," Amy said, shrugging stiffly. "Why not?"

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Hope you guys enjoyed it. I promise nothing is going on between Tonks and Charlie, Amy's just wacky. Don't forget it review!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: **Alright guys, so this is going to be my last update for awhile. I'm going on vacation and the house I'm staying at doesn't have internet, so sorry about that. I do, however, have the next chapter written, and I'm going to be writing the next chapters in my down time so don't worry, I'm not going to forget about this story. Thanks for all of the support and I'll see you guys when I get back on the 16th!

**Dedication: **To everyone who reviewed, Alerted, or Favorited this story, thanks! To all my friends, who's birthdays are coming up!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing!

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><p>Molly practically dragged Amy back to the kitchen, thrilled that she had finally gotten Amy to stay for dinner. Amy really didn't want to, but now that she had said yes, there was no way to get out of it.<p>

As they entered the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley coughed, catching the attention of her husband, who was poring over the plans that Snape had left behind with Charlie and Bill. Arthur looked up, catching sight of Harry.

"Harry!" he cried. "Good to see you!" He glanced over to the door to see his wife and Amy. "Ah, professor, Molly finally convinced you to stay for dinner!" Charlie looked up at this, as Amy forced a small smile onto her face.

"Yep," Amy sighed. "She finally did." Amy looked away quickly from Charlie, turning to stash her bag in the room. She could feel Charlie stare on her, as everyone talked amongst themselves. Molly approached her, placing a hand on her back.

"Would you mind helping me with dinner?" she asked. Amy looked towards the table, which everyone was sitting around talking and joking. Amy caught Charlie's eye for a moment, before turning back to Molly.

"Sure," Amy said. "What can I help you with?" Molly pulled her off towards the pantry, handing her several vegetables and herbs.

"Take these to the table, and start cutting them," she said, placing a knife and cutting board into Amy's other hand. "Please." Amy nodded slightly, carrying the food to one of the counters, spreading them out on the table, and began cutting them. Behind her, Amy heard Molly convince Tonks not to help them, and she smiled slightly. _'Oh Tonks,' _Amy thought.

As she chopped the vegetables into meticulous pieces, Amy didn't hear Charlie approach her from behind.

"Need any help?" he asked softly. Amy jumped, nearly cutting her fingers off. She pressed her hand to her stomach gently, pressing on the nerves that had built up.

"Charlie," Amy breathed. "You scared me." He smiled at her, stepping next to her and grabbing a spare knife.

"Sorry about that," He said quietly. "Let me make it up to you." He pulled some of the vegetables closer to him, beginning to chop them up. "See," he said, "less work for you." He glanced at her.

Amy stared at him for a moment before rolling her eyes. "Yes," she teased. "Cutting vegetables is oh-so difficult." Charlie snorted, and Amy's smiled brightened. It felt good to be joking again with him. She had missed it. Before either of them could say something else, Mrs. Weasley cried out from behind them.

"Fred – George – NO, JUST CARRY THEM!"

Amy jumped, her knife slipping, cutting into her finger. She let out a sharp gasp, dropping the knife onto the counter as she turned. She grasped her cut finger tightly, wincing slightly in pain. The Twins had decided to use magic in place of carrying a large stew filled pot and knife, which had flown through the air, almost cutting into Sirius's hand.

As Mrs. Weasley reprimanded the Twins, Amy looked back at her hand. She sighed at the blood that was dripping from the cut, and Charlie turned to her.

"Hey," he said softly, concern laced through his voice. "Are you alright?" Amy nodded strongly. She could feel her steady pulse as she kept pressure on the cut.

"Yeah," she breathed. "The knife slipped and cut my finger, but I'm-" she broke off as Charlie grasped her hand gently, peeling her fingers off the injured one. He pulled it into the light, examining it carefully, before pulling out his wand. He pointed it at the cut, murmuring a quick spell. Amy watched as the skin drew back together, healing itself in a matter of moments.

Charlie squeezed her hand gently before releasing it, almost reluctantly. She drew it back slowly, covering it with her other hand against her chest.

"Thanks," she said softly. They looked at each other, staring intently at each other.

"No problem," he said quietly, his eyes glancing down at her lips before back into her eyes. Through the silence between the two, Mrs. Weasley's voice broke in.

"Bill didn't feel the need to Apparate every few feet! Charlie didn't Charm everything he met! Percy-" Silence echoed through the room. Amy and Charlie glanced towards Mrs. Weasley, who looked as though she had just been punched in the stomach.

"Let's eat," Bill interrupted. Charlie glanced at his mom once more, before grabbing the chopped vegetables, slipping them into the stew on the table. Amy finished cleaning up at her station before turning back to the table, her stomach dropping slightly.

There was only one spot remaining at the table, and it seemed as though the gods hated her, because that last seat was next to Charlie. She glanced around hesitantly, looking for any alternative choice, before resigning herself to the fact that she would just have to suck it up and sit next to him. As she settled herself reluctantly into the chair, she glanced at Charlie, who looked slightly disconcerted, but said nothing.

All around the table, Amy could hear different conversations going on at once: Molly was bothering Sirius about some house cleaning, Tonks was laughing and switching her face around for Ginny and Hermione, Arthur, Bill, and Lupin were discussing goblins, and Fred, George, Ron, and Mundungus were practically crying in their seats out of laughter, while Amy and Charlie sat in silence.

Through the entire dinner, the two sat uncomfortably next to each other, never exchanging more than a few words or blushes when their hands and legs would accidently brush against the others. It was probably the _most _awkward dinner Amy had ever went to, and she couldn't wait for it to end, despite the small part of her that wished she would never have to leave from her seat next to Charlie.

As the dinner started to come to its end, Amy glanced towards Charlie.

"Why aren't you in Romania?" she asked. "With the dragons?" Charlie looked at her, slightly surprised that she had spoken up at all.

"I'm still working with the dragonkeepers, but I've been relocated to London," he explained, "and I'm monitoring the transportation of dragons." He nodded slowly. "Still get to work with dragons, and I get to help out with the Order." _'And see you.' _He added silently.

"Well," Amy said quietly, "that's good, I guess." She was staring awkwardly at her hands.

"Yeah," he said, staring at her bent head. "Amy," he started, waiting to continue until she looked up at him. "I wanted to apologize for what happened the day after the task. I didn't mean to intrude-"

Amy interrupted him. "No, no, no," she insisted. "Charlie, honestly, I was just-" Sirius's voice broke in.

"You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort." All heads at the table shot towards Sirius who was facing Harry.

"I did!" Harry said loudly. "I asked Ron and Hermione but they said we're not allowed in the Order, so-"

"And they're right," Molly interrupted. "You're too young." She glared at Sirius.

"Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?" Sirius shot back irritably. "Harry's been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He's got the right to know what's been happen-" This was when the Twins broke in, arguing over why they couldn't ask questions.

Amy sighed. She really didn't want to listen to Molly and Sirius argue, or another review of the Order's meetings. She rubbed her forehead tiredly, glancing at the watch on her wrist. It was almost 9:30, much later than Amy ever intended on staying. She looked up to see Sirius and Molly almost in the other's faces, arguing loudly, and she took this as her opportunity to leave. She leaned over to Charlie.

"I really need to go," she said quietly standing up. Charlie nodded, his face dropping slightly. She smiled at Tonks, who raised a hand in farewell. Stealthily, so as not to draw Molly's attention to her, Amy grabbed her bag, waving briefly, before sneaking out the door and quietly down the hall.

Just as she reached the door, she heard footsteps behind her. Amy turned, expecting to see Molly, asking her to stay for a cup of tea or some lame excuse like that. Instead, she saw Charlie approaching her.

"Wait, Amy," Charlie said, stopping before her. "I think we need to talk." Amy swallowed slightly, glancing at the door.

"I really can't Charlie," Amy answered. "I promised my mom I would talk to her to-" She stopped as Charlie stepped closer to her, his hand reaching out to her. His hand rested on her hip, as she breathed in shallowly.

"Charlie," she whispered softly, staring up into his eyes. His normal bright blue eyes were dark and staring soulfully into hers, glancing at her lips momentarily before back into her eyes.

"Amy," he murmured, just as gently, lowering his face closer to hers, he felt her warm breath on his cheek. Their eyes connected once more, before he leaned down a little further, tentatively pressing his lips to hers.

Amy gasped softly as sparks flew up between them. Charlie moved even closer to Amy, moving his mouth gently on hers. Amy's hand reached up, pressing into his muscled chest, not to push him away, but to steady herself. Her legs were shaky, despite the gentleness of the kiss.

Before they could deepen the kiss, the kitchen door slammed open, and the two drew apart. Ginny came storming from the kitchen, banging and screaming the entire way up the stairs as Molly followed her. Neither of them noticed the couple standing in the shadows of the hall. Amy glanced at the proximity between Charlie and herself, from his hand resting on her waist to her own hand that had wound itself up to his strong shoulder.

From down the hall, Mrs. Black's portrait burst into screams and Remus hurried from the kitchen to shut it. He glanced momentarily at the two, before averting his eyes and heading back into the room. A blush rose up on Amy's face as she realized what had just happened between Charlie and her.

She pulled her hand away from his shoulder, and Charlie felt her stiffen under his hand. Charlie looked down at her, seeing the look that crossed her face.

"Amy," he said softly. "Amy." He broke off as she pulled away from him completely, turning hurriedly to open the door. Amy looked back at him momentarily, before closing the door behind her and Apparating away. Charlie stared at the closed door, as he realized what he had just done.

"Oh no," he muttered. "I'm an idiot."

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>So, hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! And please don't kill me for breaking off the kiss... sorry... but I had to... don't worry though.. I'm working on it! :-D Again, thanks for the support and I'll see ya'll on August 16th!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: **Hey guys! I'm back! Here's the next chapter, as promised. Hope you guys enjoy it!

**Dedication:** To my family in Kentucky!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

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><p>Amy rubbed the brink of her nose tiredly as she sank onto her bed. "I can't believe that just happened," Amy muttered. She fell backwards, her hair spreading out on the covers. "What am I going to do?"<p>

She groaned in frustration, breathing heavily. "This is horrible," she whispered. She closed her eyes, squeezing her eyes tightly. She could practically feel his hand on her waist, his lips pressed oh-so softly against hers, his hot breath against her forehead after they had pulled away. She couldn't believe they had done that. It was… inappropriate and wrong and out of line, and honestly, the most amazing intimate moment of her life.

She sighed, rolling onto her side and reaching for the phone on her nightstand. She hesitated before punching in the number.

"This better be good, Amy," Georgie's exhausted voice broke through the ringing, she could practically see Georgie sit up from her mound of pillows, her hair flying everywhere and her make up smeared.

"Trust me, Gie, it is," Amy said. "Charlie kissed me." Amy heard sit up, and she pictured Georgie's eyes widen in excitement and wonder.

"What?" she cried. "Are you serious? Oh my gosh, tell me everything! Like, now! No, like yesterday! Go go go!" Amy sighed. Georgie may seem a little silly, but she knew that she would take this seriously when the entire truth came out.

Amy explained in detail, leaving out all mentions of the Order. She didn't want any of her friends to be hurt just for information on the Order. She could hear the wheels turning in Georgie's head, as she described what had happened when Charlie cornered her in the hallway.

"Oh my gosh!" Georgie squealed. "Amy this is awesome!" Amy sighed reluctantly. "Why aren't you happy? You have a hunky new boyfriend!"

"He's not my boyfriend, Georgie," Amy told her quietly. Georgie stopped talking for a moment and silence rang between the two.

"What do you mean, Amy?" she asked curiously.

"Before he could say anything to me," Amy began, drawing in a shuddering breath, "I left."

"Amy," Georgie started, "Do you like this guy?"

"Yes, but-"

"Could you see yourself being happy with him?" she interrupted.

"Yes, but Georgie-"

"Would he ever hurt you?"

Amy stopped to think for a moment, remembering every time he had chased after her, how he comforted her that day in the hallway, the tender way that he held her hand as he healed it.

"No," she said in full certainty. "He wouldn't hurt me."

"Then, what's the issue, Amy?" Georgie asked seriously.

"The problem, Gie," Amy said, frustration entering her voice, "is that I _teach _his brothers and sister. Do you know how inappropriate it would be? For me to date their brother? Then, there's the fact that I can be accused of favoring his siblings, which could lead to me being fired, which would result in me being unable to afford food or an apartment, and I would be forced to move back in with my parents! Plus, I work at a boarding school and he is only temporarily in London, so we would only get to see each three months out of the year. And what happens if we get together and then break up? How awkward would that be? Oh, and another thing! What if-"

"Amy, shut up," Georgie demanded softly, breaking into Amy's ramble. Amy sputtered indignantly to a halt. "Listen to me very carefully.

"There are always a thousand reasons not to do something. There's always a fear that something will go wrong. There's always going to be a what if, but if you don't go for it, then you'll never know what could've been. If you don't go for this then the rest of your life you will wonder, 'What if I had?'

"Amy, I don't want you to wonder," Georgie said, "I want you to be happy."

Amy held back the tears that had sprung into her eyes. "Georgie," She whispered, "when did you become an advice guru?" Georgie let out a small laugh.

"Does that mean you're going to do what I say and go and get yourself a hunky boyfriend?" Georgie questioned. Amy hesitated for a moment.

"I'll think about it," she answered. "With a clear mind too."

"That's the best I'm going to get, isn't it?" Georgie asked.

"Yep," Amy said with a laugh. She grew quiet. "Thanks Georgie, seriously, thank you."

"Anytime, Amy." Georgie paused, thinking for a moment. "Actually, next time, try to not to call me at four in the morning."

Amy laughed loudly. "Right," she broke in. "Go back to sleep Gie."

"Night." Amy listened to the dial tone for several minutes, before putting the phone back in its spot. Amy fell back into the pillows again, her thoughts racing.

'_Georgie's right,' _Amy thought, '_I can't live my life in what ifs, and I can't live my life in fear of being hurt.' _Amy sighed. '_The problem is that I'm here for only two more weeks. I need to be back at Hogwarts soon, and that's not really enough time to set up a steady relationship.'_

Groaning, Amy rolled onto her side. _"_No," Amy muttered. "Tomorrow, I'm going to go back and talk to him. I can't stand not talking to him. I _need _to talk to him." Her eyes grew heavy, as she pepped herself up, preparing herself for the next day.

…..

Evening had fallen by the time Amy finally convinced herself to go to Grimmuald place. She had checked her hair almost ten times by the time she left, while at the same, she tried to convince herself not to go many times, only to force herself out of these thoughts. She had to go. She had to explain to Charlie that she did want to be him. She had to tell him, that she truly cared for him… maybe even…

She shook her head of these thoughts, using her wand to unlock the door to the headquarters. As she stepped inside the dark hallways, the first thing that hit her was the silence, as always. The second thing was that clean house smell of lemons. She blinked in confusion, before shrugging and continuing into the house.

As she glanced through the halls looking for Charlie, Amy bumped into Remus, who had just exited the kitchen.

"Remus!" Amy said, stepping back. "Hi!"

"Hello Amy," Remus greeted, gracing her with a small smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Um, I was actually looking for Charlie," Amy answered, a slow blush rising onto her cheeks, as she remembered that Remus had seen the two at the end of the hall last night. He raised his eyebrow slightly, his face dropping ever so slightly.

"Actually," he said slowly, "Charlie's not here. He's, um, he's actually back in Romania, securing some international wizards for the Order."

Amy's jaw dropped slightly and she furrowed her brow. "Oh, um, alright, um," she stuttered, disappointment crossing her face. "Um, thanks anyway." She offered a forced smile. "I'll see you soon, Remus." He nodded slowly, watching Amy turn and walk hurriedly to the door. He did not miss the shudder in her shoulders as the door closed behind her.

…..

Amy stayed away from headquarters for the next few days. She couldn't go there anymore without the kiss replaying in her mind again and again. Molly had sent her several invitations to dinner, but she had ignored most of them, finally sending her a letter saying that she was extremely busy contacting American wizards for the Order. She hadn't heard from her since.

She had only one Order meeting left before she was heading to Hogwarts, and she just wanted it to pass as quickly as possible.

She couldn't believe that Charlie had just left. Then again, it was just payback. She walks away from him, and when she finally goes to confess her feelings, he's gone.

After Lupin had told her, Amy had gone home and sat on her bed, staring at one of the photos from the Yule Ball. She couldn't find the one of them dancing; she assumed that she had left it at Hogwarts. Instead, she found herself staring at the one of Charlie after she had left the Great Hall: his large hands, his muscled shoulders and chest, his strong jaw, his bright eyes, his messy red hair, his lips…

Amy sighed, rubbing her face tiredly. She hadn't talked to any of her friends since the night she called Georgie. She didn't want to tell them what had happened. She didn't want their sympathy or the traditional "you're better off without him" lines that her friends were so fond of. It wouldn't help, especially because she knew it wasn't true.

…..

On the night of the final Order meeting that Amy would be attending, Amy forced herself to push all thoughts of Charlie Weasley from her mind. She would be no help at the meeting if her thoughts were on him. The second she entered headquarters, Amy was almost immediately jumped on by Mrs. Weasley, who started immediately on her motherly rambles. From what she gathered, Harry had gotten off on his charges, the house was almost completely clean, and Sirius was being a complete downer. Not necessarily in those words of course.

Molly seated Amy in one of the kitchen tables, forcing her into a conversation with Bill and Sturgis Podmore. She awkwardly made semi-polite conversation with them, not really noticing what they were talking about. She had started to zone out when Remus interrupted her stupor.

"Amy," he began as she looked at him. "Do you have the names of the American wizards you talked to about joining the Order?" Amy stared curiously at him for a moment, blinking slowly as she considered this.

"Um, I don't have a written one," she started, "but I can write the names down now." Remus smiled his thanks, as Amy pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen. She wasn't a big fan of the average parchment and quill; she may be a witch, but she was a Muggle first.

There were only about twenty names or so, and by the time that she had finished the list and handed over to Remus, the meeting was about to begin.

The entire meeting was focused on the guarding of the weapon, which was to take place as long as it was needed, and Harry's safety. It had been decided that Harry would need a guard on his trip to King's Cross and that someone would need to be at Hogwarts to oversee his safety as well. That particular duty was left up to the teachers, McGonagall, Snape, Hagrid, and Amy. It wasn't exactly what she had planned to do for the Order, but seeing as she wouldn't exactly be free most of the time, she was willing to do anything.

As she was leaving the meeting that night, Bill followed her out into the hall.

"Amy, hold on a moment, please," he asked, stopping to close the kitchen door first. She stopped, glancing around hesitantly.

"Hey, Bill, what's up?" she asked, fidgeting slightly.

"This is a little awkward," he started.

"You know, that's probably not the best way to start a conversation, right?" Amy questioned, her tone light despite the nervousness that bubbled slightly inside her. Bill laughed, and Amy noted that his laugh was similar to Charlie's, but not as deep or as soothing.

"You're probably right," he laughed, breathing out through his nose heavily. "Anyway, I just wanted to know, well, how do I say this?" Amy nodded her head slowly, glancing at the door. "How are you?"

Amy blinked for a moment. "Um," she started in confusion. "I'm fine, why exactly do you ask?" Bill refused to look her in the eye, and she swallowed, the reason why hitting her full force in the stomach. "Charlie told you, didn't he?" she asked quietly.

Bill looked up at her, nodding slightly. Amy bit her lip, looking down at her twisted hands. "Um, tell him, tell him I'm fine, alright?" she said softly. She glanced at him tentatively and he nodded.

"Will do," he said quietly. Amy's mouth quirked slightly, and she raised her hand in farewell. As the door closed behind her, Amy sighed, closing her eyes slowly.

"Dammit, Charlie," she whispered. "Dammit."

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Sorry it wasn't that amazing... the next couple of chapters aren't spectacular either, but they'll get better. Sorry, there's not a lot of Charlie either...

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: **Hey guys! So, here's the next chapter! I'm going to be pretty busy in the next few weeks; I've got a class reunion, concert, try-outs, orientation, blah blah blah, all that good stuff, so sorry if I'm not updating everyday. Hope you enjoy!

**Dedication: **To D-Wreck! Happy B-day!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

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><p>Several days later, Amy returned to Hogwarts. It was weird being inside the school when very few others were. September first was just around the corner, but Amy didn't want to return on the first day and then have to stay up late to set up her office and prepare for her lessons. She'd rather have a few days ahead of time to do all of that.<p>

She didn't stray much from her office or room, deciding to stay away from the other teachers. She wasn't exactly in the greatest social mood since the Bill incident. She was embarrassed that Charlie had said anything to him in the first place, but she wasn't sure exactly how much he knew. Of course, they are brothers, so Bill probably knows everything. She herself still hadn't talked to any of the girls, afraid of their reactions to what had happened. She knew she would have to eventually, but she was going to put it off for as long as possible.

As Amy was moving from her office to her room one night, she stumbled upon Professor Dumbledore, who appeared to be taking a stroll through the corridors.

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore," Amy greeted softly, trying not to break the silence too much.

"Miss Wyman," he nodded towards her, and Amy fell into step beside him. "Remus passed on the list of Order members you contacted in America," Dumbledore informed her casually. Amy glanced at him before looking forward again. "You are sure you trust them all?"

"With my life," Amy said immediately. "Most of them I went to school with and the others are ones that I met when I was teaching in America. All of them have fought for equality and all of them have stood by me before. There are few others I trust as much as them." She breathed in, slightly afraid that Dumbledore would find her a bit too bold. Instead, he smiled.

"If you're able to speak for them so honestly, Miss Wyman," Dumbledore began, "then there's no reason for me to doubt their skills or loyalty." The two continued in silence, walking the empty halls that were filled with shadows and the silent echoes of voices passed.

If there was one thing Amy loved about this school, it was the hallways. The hallways alone told a story. Every crack, every speck of dirt, every brick. Each told a story: a story of despair, hope, and strength. It was, in essence, a writer's dream. A single section of this wall could give a writer pages worth of inspiration, but only with the right type of writer. The type of writer who sees more than just a wall but a story.

Amy shook through these thoughts. They constantly roamed through her head. Before she had found out she was a witch, the only thing Amy could see herself doing when she was older, was becoming an author of some sort. Her love of reading allowed her to string together words and turn them into something amazing, something memorable. Alas, Amy found that nonfiction wasn't really her thing, and that seemed to be the only type of literature in the Wizarding world.

To Amy, it was ironic that a world filled with magic and enchantments and everything else the Wizarding world offered, was missing one thing. Something Amy found extremely crucial in life. An imagination. The Wizarding world was made up of fantasies, so it seemed redundant for anyone to read about fantasies when they could _live _it. Sure there was always _Tales of Beedle the Bard, _but even that was based off of some amount of facts. To her, it was the purest form of irony. The magical worlds living without the magic of true literature, while the Muggle world reveled in it, practically fed off of it. It was simply…ironic. That is truly the only word that Amy could find to describe the situation.

Amy counted herself lucky though. She, and every other Muggleborn, was given the best of both worlds, the chance to experience the Magical world in more ways than one. There was a downside to this though. Amy now found that she was unable to read certain books on witches and wizards, because she was constantly laughing at the spells and enchantments that the characters used, and any book that contained the words "abra kadabra" were set aside immediately for fear that she might combust into giggles from the ridiculousness.

Amy smiled slightly, pulling away from her thoughts. She had been that a lot lately. Thinking about the differences between the Magic and Muggle world. She assumed it was coming from her antisocial attitude, that her unhappy mind was taking her back to a time when things had been easier and thus happier for her.

"Miss Wyman?" Professor Dumbledore broke into her thoughts, looking curiously at the much younger teacher. "It appears that you have become immersed in your thoughts."

Amy blushed slightly, afraid that her thoughtful demeanor may have come off as rude to the wizard. "I'm sorry, professor," she apologized. "I've just had a lot on my mind lately."

"There's no need to apologize, Miss Wyman," Dumbledore insisted. "I constantly lose myself in thought. It's not a fault. The more you think the more you have to say." Amy nodded slowly.

"Well, when you put it that way," Amy said lightly. The two fell back into a comfortable silence, bidding each other good night when they arrived at Amy's room.

As she closed the door behind her, Amy sighed quietly. '_He certainly is an odd man,' _she thought.

…..

The many Hogwarts students arrived several days later. It was very much like the year before; everyone entered together before splitting into their designated houses, but Amy sensed that something was different. The atmosphere was strained, and Amy noticed that the Gryffindor table was receiving many stares, directed towards where Harry sat with Ron, Hermione, and their classmate, Neville Longbottom, a kind student who had the tendency of getting nervous or stressed over simple things.

Amy's attention was pulled away from the students as a flash of pink caught her eye. She turned, looking for the bright color, her jaw dropping when her eyes found it. She quickly shut her mouth.

At first, Amy thought it was just a pile of pudding, swathed in pink witches' robes. She realized moments later that it was, in actuality, a woman. A woman with bug eyes, dull brown hair, and an oh-so sweet expression on her face. Amy had seen that expression before. It was the same expression her sister, Rose, would make before going into a condescending, sometimes petty, rage. It was needless to say that, Amy didn't trust that look. Not at all.

As McGonagall entered the Great Hall, followed by a long line of first years, Amy noted that Hagrid was not seated at the front table. In his spot was a rather grubby looking woman. Amy remembered that Hagrid was away of business for the Order, and she figured this woman must be his substitute.

Silence rang through the room as McGonagall set the Sorting Hat onto its stool. It promptly opened at its brim, bursting into song.

_In times of old when I was new_

_And Hogwarts barely started_

_The founders of our noble school_

_Thought never to be parted:_

_United by a common goal,_

_They had the selfsame yearning,_

_To make the world's best magic school_

_And pass along their learning._

"_Together we will build and teach!"_

_The four good friends decided_

_And never did they dream that they_

_Might someday be divided,_

_For were there such friends anywhere _

_As Slytherin and Gryffindor?_

_Unless it was the second pair _

_Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?_

_So how could it have gone so wrong?_

_How could such friendships fail?_

_Why, I was there and so can tell_

_The whole sad, sorry tale._

_Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those_

_Whose ancestry is purest."_

_Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose_

_Intelligence is surest."_

_Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those_

_With brave deeds to their name,"_

_Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot,_

_And treat them just the same."_

_These differences caused little strife_

_When first they came to light,_

_For each of the four founders had_

_A House in which they might_

_Take only those they wanted, so,_

_For instance, Slytherin_

_Took only pure-blood wizards_

_Of great cunning, just like him,_

_And only those of sharpest mind_

_Were taught by Ravenclaw_

_While the bravest and the boldest _

_Went to daring Gryffindor._

_Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,_

_And taught them all she knew,_

_Thus the Houses and their founders_

_Retained friendships firm and true._

_So Hogwarts worked in harmony_

_For several happy years,_

_But then discord crept among us_

_Feeding on our faults and fears._

_THE Houses that, like pillars four,_

_Had once held up our school,_

_Now turned upon each other and,_

_Divided, sought to rule._

_And for a while it seemed the school_

_Must meet an early end,_

_What with dueling and with fighting_

_And the clash of friend on friend_

_And at last there came a morning_

_When old Slytherin departed_

_And though the fighting then died out_

_He left us quite downhearted,_

_And never since the founders four_

_Were whittled down to three_

_Have the Houses been united_

_As they once were meant to be._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here_

_And you all know the score:_

_I sort you into Hourses_

_Because that is what I'm for,_

_But this year I'll go further,_

_Listen closely to my song:_

_Though condemned I am to split you_

_Still I worry that it's wrong,_

_Though I must fulfill my duty_

_And must quarter every year_

_Still I wonder whether sorting_

_May not bring the end I fear._

_Oh, know the perils, read the signs,_

_The warning history shows,_

_For our Hogwarts is in danger_

_From external, deadly foes_

_And we must unite inside her_

_Or we'll crumble from within_

_I have told you, I have warned you…._

_Let the Sorting now begin._

Similar to last year, the students, faculty, and ghosts clapped, although this time whispers accompanied these claps. Apparently, this song was much different than the other ones in years passed. Amy tried to remember the gist of last year's song, but she found that she was unable to. Much had happened in the past year, so it wasn't much of a surprise.

McGonagall waited a moment for the whispers to recede before calling out the name of the first student to be sorted. It was very similar to last year's; short kids stumbling towards the stool, fidgeting while the hat decided on a house, before hurrying towards the table that they had been sorted in to. Basically, it got boring really quickly.

Amy zoned out, her head filling with that thoughts she had tried to banish from her mind, but refused to leave. Charlie. Charlie, the man who could make her laugh so easily. Charlie, the man who cared for her. Charlie, the man she pushed away. Charlie, the man who kissed her, kissed her in a way that even as she thought of it then, weeks after it happened, she still felt breathless. Charlie, the man who left. His hair, his eyes, his jaw, his shoulders, his chest, his hands, his lips… everything flashed in her mind. The sparks when they first met, the sadness when she'd thought he'd left after the first task, the contented feeling she had in his arms at the Yule Ball, the humiliation after the third task, the jealousy when he talked to Tonks, the passion she felt when he kissed her. All of which she could tell were connected to something bigger, a certain feeling she didn't want to admit.

Amy snapped back into attention as Dumbledore stood from his seat. The sorting had ended.

"To our newcomers, welcome!" Dumbledore greeted brightly. "To our old hands-welcome back! There is a time for speechmaking, but this is not it. Tuck in!" Amy smiled as an assortment of food appeared on the tables. Although all of the food smelled and looked delicious, Amy wasn't particularly hungry. She hadn't been eating much as of late. She had never really been one for breakfast, even as a kid, she usually worked through lunch, and when dinner finally came around, Amy found that nothing actually appealed to her. She blamed it on homesickness for her mother's homemade meals, and nerves on the resurrection of Lord Voldemort. That alone was enough to make Amy sick to her stomach.

Through the entire dinner, Amy picked at the food on her plate, pushing it around to make it seem as though she had at least eaten a little. As the remaining food on the plates vanished, Dumbledore stood once more, ready to make his annual start-of-term speech.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast," he began, and Amy squirmed slightly in her seat, "I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices. First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students – and a few of our older students ought to know by now too." Amy could tell that this comment was directed towards several Gryffindor students.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door." Amy snorted at the professor's tone; it was almost as though he was as tired of Filch as everyone else.

"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Again, applause sounded through the cavernous hall, though it was very dull and quite obvious that the only reason the students had moved at all was for the sake of being polite. Amy figured that Grubbly-Plank must be the grubby looking witch, instead of the pink pudding pile, because it was unlikely that someone as clean and manicured looking as that witch would ever step near a magical creature.

Dumbledore continued on. "Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the-" Dumbledore broke off, turning to face the staff, looking towards Professor Umbridge. Amy turned as well, finding that Umbridge had risen to her feet.

The hall sat in silence as Umbridge emitted a sickeningly sweet "_hem, hem._" She stepped from around the table walking towards the center of the platform at which Dumbledore stood. He looked evenly at her, before stepping back gracefully and giving her the floor. Amy straightened in her seat, curious to see what on earth this woman had to say, and why it was so important that she had to interrupt Albus Dumbledore.

"Thank you, Headmaster," she said in a high sugar-coated voice, "for those kind words of welcome." She turned to face the students now, smiling, almost creepily, at them. "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces looking back at me." Amy's attention now turned away from the witch and towards her pupils, none of their faces showing anything but happiness. "I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!" Umbridge's tone reminded Amy of the preppy, rich girls from her elementary school, before the turned evil and sadistic. Amy also noted the condescending tone lace into her voice, and she had a gut feeling that she was not going to like this woman.

Umbridge gave another "_hem, hem," _before continuing on in her speech. This time though, Amy noticed that her honey voice had turned slightly poisonous, and had a hint of superiority in it.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."

Umbridge turned to face the teachers, bowing slightly. Amy raised her eyebrows. _'Oh, someone's sucking up, but why?'_

"Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discourage, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation…"

Amy's eyes narrowed slightly. She knew this technique, she had used it before. Simply put, Umbridge was using vocabulary that would make the students believe that everything they did would be for their good. Innovation, change, new, all words that the students would like to hear because for them, at least at the moment, it meant that they might be able to have a say in what might happen.

While the information was being delivered in one of _the most _boring ways possible, the information that was being given was one of extreme importance. This is what the Ministry was planning for Hogwarts. The newspapers over the summer had been extremely disturbing to Amy; they were slanderous and all lies, obviously hoping to turn the Wizarding world into one that took no heed of Dumbledore or Harry Potter, both of whom had been turned into crackpots in _The Daily Prophet._ The Ministry was obviously now trying to influence everyone at Hogwarts as well, something that would not sit well with Amy. She wasn't one to believe what was shoved forcefully at her, especially when she knew the truth.

"…because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."

She stepped away from the platform, Amy following her with her steely hazel eyes. That was just the icing of the cake. Amy bit her tongue from saying anything. _'Did they really expect the teachers to accept the changes that the Ministry was forcing upon them? Had they honestly lost their minds? It's absurd!'_

Dumbledore now stepped back into the spotlight. "Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating," he began, and Amy's eye twitched slightly. "Now – as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held in two weeks' time. If any student wishes to sign up, please visit your head of house for the time and date of the try-outs. Now, seeing as we have all been watered, fed, and brought up to date, I bid you all goodnight."

Dumbledore stepped away from the podium once more, signaling the students that it was time for them to return to their dormitories. As the other teachers stood, walking passed her, Amy noted that not one of the Order members gave her a second glance, knowing that it was crucial that it seem as though they were nothing more than colleagues. Amy stood as well, walking the length of the table and into the sea of students.

Her room was just off one of the staircases, and the quickest route was the same one that the students were taking as well. She tried her best not to push through the students, but she also felt the incessant need to return to her room. For what, Amy wasn't exactly sure.

As she moved with the students, Amy failed to notice the Weasley twins fall into step beside her.

"Hello Professor!" One of them started brightly, scaring Amy out her thoughts.

"Have a nice holiday?" the other continued. Amy glanced hesitantly around her, and when she found that no one was paying the three the slightest bit of attention, she smirked slightly.

"But of course!" she exclaimed. "I spent most of it on the most wonderful beach in Chicago with my friends! It's not liked I was being summoned to a dusty, drafty old house every other day."

Identical grins broke onto Fred and George's face, both lifting hand in farewell as they continued through the crowd with their friends and peers. Amy smiled slightly, before continuing onto her room.

…..

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Hope you enjoyed. I know some of it was kinda weird (mainly the part where she's thinking about literature/irony in the hall) but I wrote most of this at 4 in the morning on the car ride down to KY, so it's kinda wacky.

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	19. Author's Note

Hey everyone, I really hate myself for doing one of these, and I'm sure you hate me too, because I know I hate when I get excited because I think a story was updated, and then it turns out it's one of these stupid Author Notes with no story...so I hate myself right now, but I figured I should explain what exactly is happening.

**Unfortunately, **I will not be able to update for at least a week. At the least. I had the next chapter all ready to be posted, but because I finished at like 3 in the morning, I figured I would put it off until morning (or afternoon, because that's when I finally dragged myself out of bed). Anyway, when I went to turn on my laptop in the morning, it began an immediate update which I couldn't cancel, and the update ended up screwing up my computer, so my hard-drive is corrupted, which really sucks because I have eight years of essays, homework assignments, and many, many stories that I may not be able to get back, which makes me want to cry.

Anyway, moving away from my sobbing self, I really am sorry, and once I find out if the geek people are able to fix it, you will be the first to know! Updating is my top priority (after starting high school on the sixth... and finishing my summer assignment...sigh), so I will do my best to get the next chapter up as soon as possible. I will not forget about this story, I'm just hoping the geeks are able to retrieve my documents, because I really don't want to re-write the next chapter, because it took me forever.

Thank you for listening to my ramblings, and thank you for all of the reviews, alerts, and favorites! They really help!

Keep reading!

Signing off,

WiseGirl**  
><strong>


	20. Chapter 19

**AN: **Hello everyone! So, I finally got my laptop back, although I know it's been more than a week, but here it is! The next chapter! Thank you to everyone who stuck with the story I really appreciate it, and all of your reviews!

**Dedication: **To Yanira, Joseph, and Scout! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

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><p>The first day of term was dark and dreary, just the opposite of what a September day should be. If felt like a bad omen to Amy, almost as though the sky was a peek into the school year; a school year filled with darkness. Perhaps it was because of Voldemort's return, or perhaps it was the arrival of Umbridge, who Amy felt as though she couldn't trust. There was just something about her tone… perhaps it was the condescending way that she spoke…<p>

As Amy handed out the schedules to her Ravenclaw students, she noted that unlike last year, there seemed to be a hush over the hall. The students all sat in small groups, whispering and talking amongst themselves, sometimes looking over their shoulders hurriedly. It was as though they were afraid someone would overhear them. Amy saw that many glances were being given to Harry Potter, who was moodily eating his breakfast, trying to ignore the stares.

Amy rolled her eyes slightly, realizing that many students probably believed _The Daily Prophet,_ and therefore doubted what Harry had to say about Voldemort's return. _'They'll figure it out eventually,' _Amy thought bitterly, moving now towards the front table.

Amy noticed that Umbridge was not seated at the table, and she assumed that she must be preparing for her first class. Amy poured herself a glass of juice (she still refused to drink tea, it was just too British) and waited for the arrival of the post.

She was still subscribed to _The Daily Prophet_, so she would at least be kept up to date on the slander that the Ministry was feeding to the public, but Amy was also expecting letters from back home. It was sort of tradition for the girls to send her a letter, wishing her luck for the school year; they didn't disappoint.

All of the cards were somewhat humorous and pictured atrocious hand drawings from the girls. Amy's stomach clenched unpleasantly at Georgie's letter which had made a reference to Amy's new boyfriend, Charlie. Amy really needed to tell Georgie what had happened between Charlie and her. After a few minutes of giggling and shaking her head at the girls' homemade good-luck cards, Amy made her way to her classroom. The day started very similarly to any other day. Amy had Hufflepuff and Slytherin third years to start with. They spent most of the day reviewing the charms they had learned in the year before, basically just catching them up to speed from after the summer. You forget a lot after several months in the sun. Most of the class went by similarly, just reviewing the previous year in preparation for this year, so it was really just a boring day, and the next day went by just the same, reviewing last year for this year.

Despite the dullness of the two days, Amy found herself thoroughly exhausted by the end of it. She blamed it on the fact that she was still getting back into the hang of things, and just needed to rest, which was the excuse she gave when asked why she hadn't been at lunch or dinner on either of the two days. Perhaps she was coming down with a cold or flu of some sort.

Either way, it was during dinner the second day of term when Amy was heading back to her room, after skipping dinner that she bumped into Harry Potter, who looked thoroughly downhearted.

"Harry," she called quietly. He turned to her, a small frown on his face. "Shouldn't you be at dinner with your friends?" His scowl darkened.

"I have detention," he admitted darkly. Amy's eyebrows furrowed together slightly.

"On the second day?" she asked in confusion. "Did you purposely set something on fire?" The corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

"I yelled at Umbridge," he grumbled. "Called her a liar when she said Voldemort hadn't returned." Amy nodded slowly, narrowing her eyes slightly.

"So, she gave you detention for speaking your mind?" she inquired, through clenched teeth. "She gave you detention for telling the truth?"

"She doesn't believe it's the truth," Harry said angrily. "Kept saying that Cedric's death was 'a tragic accident.'" He shook his head bitterly. Amy clenched her teeth, breathing in deeply.

"Right," Amy said through tight lips. "An accident." She refrained herself from going off into a rage, but her eyes flashed. "You should probably be heading to her office than Harry." She placed a hand onto his shoulder, squeezing it tightly. "Perhaps, you should refrain from calling her a liar though. It's probably not the best way to stay out of detention."

Harry smiled faintly, before continuing down the hall, grumbling quietly about how Amy was so much like McGonagall. As he disappeared around the corner, Amy released a hiss of anger.

"An accident?" she muttered. "There's no way in hell that a kid is murdered with the Killing Curse on _accident." _ She shook her head angrily, before continuing to her office.

…..

The next morning, Amy heard many whispers from the students about Harry. It seemed as though many of them believed he had lost his marbles, which wasn't possible, but then again… no, it wasn't. Voldemort was back, he murdered Cedric Diggory. Everyone who didn't believe it, they were the ones who needed to have their heads looked at.

Along with whispers on Harry's sanity, Amy also heard much muttering on Umbridge and her teaching style. From what Amy had gathered, it seemed as though she was restricting all use of magic in her classroom. Apparently, Umbridge believed that the students would do better not to use magic but instead study the theory of defensive spells. She believed that this would be enough for the students and would allow them to pass their exams adequately. Amy disagreed.

"_Does she honestly believe that her students will be able to pass the practical part of their Defense exams if the first time they will be performing the spells is during the exam itself? It's like teaching the alphabet to someone and then expecting them to be able to read and comprehend _A Clockwork Orange _without allowing them to work their way up to that reading level," _Amy wrote to her sister in a fit of anger, knowing that Rose would understand completely. Rose had very similar ideas to that of Amy's which allowed them to spend a lot of time debating over various topics. The concept was ridiculous to say the least, and all of the teachers seemed to agree with Amy, many of them already feeling a hatred for this Ministry worker turned teacher.

Amy was pleased however that many of the students who didn't believe the truth about Voldemort, and therefore believed Harry Potter to be an attention-seeking teen, all agreed on one thing: Dolores Umbridge was a truly wicked woman who had little pleasure except when her students were discouraged.

…..

Several days after sending this letter, Amy received a surprise in the mail, in the form of a _Daily Prophet _article. Sturgis Podmore, the fellow Order member who had winked at Amy during the first meeting, and in almost every meeting after that, flirted with her, despite the fact that he was almost seventeen years older than her, had been arrested for trespassing on Ministry grounds.

Nerves began to build up inside of Amy. The article said that Sturgis had said nothing on his defense which meant that he had not revealed anything about the Order, but that doesn't mean it wasn't possible. They could always slip him something, a truth serum of sorts, and the Ministry would then have any and all information they need on the Order of the Phoenix, including those who were also members, including Amy.

There was the possibility that she could lose her job, or, if the information was passed onto a follower of Voldemort, Amy could be murdered for working against Him. It was all very nerve-racking to say the least.

Amy glanced hesitantly at McGonagall, who was also reading the paper, but took no notice of the younger professor. Amy bit her lip worriedly, rubbing her forehead. She looked down at the _Prophet _again, before folding it up and stuffing it into her bag. She was going to go crazy with worry if she kept reading it.

As she stood from the table, McGonagall brushed passed her, and Amy felt something fall into her pocket. She stared in confusion at McGonagall's back, refraining from reaching for whatever was in her pocket as Amy noticed that Umbridge was sitting at the table as well, looking rather smug. Amy scowled in her general direction; along with giving Harry Potter detention for telling the truth, Umbridge had also pestered Amy at one point.

It had happened a few days before, after all of the students had gone to bed. Amy had steadily begun to regain her appetite, although not by much but still, she had begun to eat more. As she was heading downstairs, towards the kitchens, Umbridge appeared from the shadows.

"Professor Wyman," she cooed quietly, the light from a torch glinting off her pink robes. "What are you doing out after hours?"

Amy came to a halt. "I'm a professor," she answered coolly. "I'm allowed out after hours." Umbridge fixed a steely gaze on her.

"Usually once one retires for the evening," Umbridge explained, "they stay in their room. It's not exactly proper or perhaps even wise for someone to be wandering about this late."

Amy smirked slightly. "Ah, but professor," she started, beginning to walk away, "I'm American. We don't exactly follow the rules, which also means that I don't exactly care what 'proper' is considered in England." It still made Amy smile as she remembered the look on Umbridge's face as she walked away from her that night.

Amy glanced back at the head table as she exited the Great Hall, walking hurriedly towards her classroom, knowing that almost none of her students would be there when she arrived. It was essential that Amy find out what this note said, and, assuming that it was about the Order of the Phoenix, it was crucial that no one, especially someone like Umbridge, find out that the Order even existed, let alone was alive.

As was expected, only two students were seated at their desks upon Amy's arrival. She spared them a smile before seating herself at her desk. She removed the note from her pocket, laying it on her lap while she glanced to make sure that the two sixth years' attentions were elsewhere before opening the letter.

_Professor,_

_I request your presence in my office, tonight, at 11:30. Do not speak of this to anyone, and allow no one to know where you are going._

_Professor Albus Dumbledore._

Amy read through the letter hurriedly, memorizing it, as the bell rang, signaling the beginning of class. Looking up, Amy saw that the rest of her class was seated at the desks, prepared for the lesson. Quickly, Amy crumpled up the note, stuffing it into her desk drawer, which she locked, before standing to begin the class.

As she moved through the classroom, explaining what the students were going to be doing, Amy couldn't help but sneak glances at the desk, almost as though the message was whispering softly to her.

…..

The halls were silent when Amy crept out of her room. She cautiously moved through the dark corridors, making no noise so as to not alert anyone that she was out and about. She feared that Umbridge may be in the hallways again, and she didn't want to risk the chance of Umbridge seeing her, especially on a night of such importance as tonight. On several nighttime excursions for snacks, Amy had seen Umbridge sneaking around in the halls, glaring at Amy as she passed by. She didn't want to have to deal with that, and she didn't think she could come up with a lie as to why she was out tonight seeing as she was heading in the opposite direction of the kitchens. Umbridge may be dimwitted, but she had enough sense to figure out that Amy wouldn't be heading to the kitchens that particular night.

Luck seemed to be with her though, because Amy didn't catch sight of Umbridge, or her atrocious pink outfit, once. As she approached Dumbledore's office, she glanced behind her once, before whispering the password (Fizzing Whizbee) to the gargoyles that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

Walking up the winding staircase, Amy steadied her breathing. She wasn't exactly sure what was about to happen or who was going to be in Dumbledore's office. For all she knew, he could've asked the entire Order to be there, which would include… Amy shook her head of these thoughts as she reached the wooden door, which opened before she could raise her hand to knock. She hesitated for a moment before stepping through the doorway and into the office, shutting the door behind her.

To her relief, and slight disappointment, the only people assembled in the office were faculty members who doubled as Order members. Snape gave no notice to the professor, while McGonagall nodded briefly at her before turning back to Dumbledore who was seated at his desk, his fingers templed together. He looked up as entered the room, and the portraits, who had been chattering amongst themselves, grew silent.

"Thank you for joining us, Amy," Dumbledore said, no hint of bitterness at her slightly late arrival. "Now that we are all here, I believe it is time to explain why I have called this meeting." Amy leaned against the door, deciding that she would rather stand than sit.

"As you know," Dumbledore began, "Sturgis Podmore, a member of the Order, was found trying to enter a prohibited area in the Ministry. He has been sentenced to six months in Azkaban. It is unfortunate that we have lost a friend and member, but we must look forward." Amy looked up at Dumbledore, staring intently at him.

"Sturgis was standing guard outside of the Department of Mysteries, which is where we believe the weapon that Voldemort seeks is hidden. Since Sturgis was found in the vicinity of this room, it is likely that there will be more security in this area, which will, of course, inhibit our own guarding of the weapon."

"So, what do you suggest we do?" Amy broke in, crossing her arms, a curious look etched into her face.

Dumbledore sighed. "Perhaps, there is nothing much we can do," he admitted. For the first time, Amy saw Dumbledore, not as the wise, fearless leader, but as an old and tired man. Amy pursed her lips as the room fell quiet.

"What would we do?" she asked softly. The others turned to her. "If we could, what would we do?" She looked imploringly at them, begging someone to speak up.

"We would continue to fight," McGonagall broke in. "We would continue to keep watch over the weapon, and we would continue our search for more Order members." McGonagall looked up from the carpet. "We would fight."

"We never stopped," Amy protested quietly. "We just need to fight harder." Amy looked at Dumbledore who was nodding approvingly.

"It sounds like a plan," he said, his mouth quirked up slightly. Before he could continue, a flame burst into the room, a single smoking feather floating towards the ground in the flames' wake.

Snape and McGonagall straightened as Amy looked curiously from the feather to the others. Dumbledore looked towards McGonagall and Snape. "You know what to do," he said quickly. Moments later, Amy was alone in the room with the headmaster, who was twirling the feather between his thumb and forefinger.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Amy began in confusion. "What exactly just happened?"

"It appears that Professor Umbridge knows of our meeting," Dumbledore informed her. "Severus and Minerva have gone to head her off, to delay her arrival at my office." Amy's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Then, why am I still here?" she questioned, one eyebrow raised slightly.

"Some of the professors, as well as certain students, have expressed concerns about your health," Dumbledore told her gently. Amy's eyes flashed. "They have made mentions that you are not eating and that you have not been acting as you usually do."

Amy stiffened, her muscles clenching unconsciously. "I can assure you, Professor Dumbledore," she said through clenched teeth. "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. There's no need for anyone to be concerned about my wellbeing." She breathed heavily as Dumbledore stared calculatedly at her, nodding slowly.

"Of course," he agreed, and Amy could tell he was holding himself back from saying what he was actually thinking. "I understand that the past few months have been difficult, so it is understandable that they would have an effect on you."

"Professor," Amy interrupted impatiently, "is there any other reason that I am still here? Or can I leave?" When the headmaster said nothing, Amy turned walking heatedly towards the door.

"Amy," his voice called, and Amy stopped, her hand tight on the doorknob. She bit the inside of her cheek, turning slowly towards the wizard. "The times ahead are rough, and it is essential that you are able to place your trust in others. You must be able to speak openly to those of us in the Order or everything could be ruined." He looked at her, but she continued to gaze at the carpet floor. "You must be able to speak to us despite what may have happened to you last year, while at home, or even while you were at the headquarters." Amy's head shot up, disbelief flashing in her eyes, as he looked knowingly at her.

She opened her mouth to speak, before shutting it and swallowing. She nodded briefly before turning and leaving Dumbledore alone in his office. "How the hell does he know?" she muttered to herself as she hurried down the stone steps, the torches that hung from the walls set off a warm glow although all Amy felt was cold bubbling up inside her. As she started into the empty hallway, she saw a flash of pink hurrying towards her, and the cold inside her melted away to be replaced with a bundle of nerves.

Amy came to a halt as Umbridge approached her, her face twisted into a (creepy) smile, her teeth pointed.

"Professor Wyman," she simpered, her eyes eager with the thought that she had caught Amy doing something that she shouldn't be, "What are you doing out at this time? It doesn't look like you are out for a late night snack." She glanced behind Amy towards the entrance to Dumbledore's office. "Were you perhaps having a meeting with the headmaster?"

Before Amy could reply, Umbridge broke in, her eyes filled with glee. "If this is the situation, I must ask that you disclose the purpose of this meeting. I am, of course, a Ministry official, and therefore I have the right to know exactly what business you have talking with the headmaster at this time of night, especially as it seems that he is under a certain amount of suspicion," she inhaled heavily, and Amy stared at her inquiringly. "What, with all this talk of the resurrection of You-Know-Who, it is vitally important that, as a teacher to the many young minds at this esteemed school, you tell me anything you were speaking to the headmaster about." Umbridge stopped, looking expectantly up at Amy, who stared back, her lips quivering slightly.

Amy rubbed her mouth, covering the smile that was fighting to break across her face. "Well," she started, coughing to disguise the giggles that were threatening to erupt from her, "I'll make it my top priority to inform you of any conversations I have with Professor Dumbledore about this extremely sensitive topic." Amy's fingers tapped casually against her leg, seemingly dancing to a catchy song that may have been floating through her mind. "Alas, I haven't seen the headmaster since dinner," she said as she pulled out a napkin from the pocket of her sweater. She unwrapped it, revealing a handful of chocolate cookies. "I was actually just returning from the kitchens." She let out a light, tinkling laugh. "I guess you caught me!"

Umbridge's eyes bugged out, staring at the cookies before back at Amy, who looked innocently down at the witch. "Then, why, may I ask," she said in a strangled voice, "Are you on this side of the castle, when the kitchens are on the opposite side?" Her face was now smug, as though she had caught Amy with her hand in the cookie jar, no pun intended.

Amy looked down, trying to look embarrassed, as her fingers continued to move against her thigh. "I've been having trouble sleeping lately; I had a rough summer, you know?" she said, biting her lip. "I thought that maybe if I went for a walk, it would help me get to sleep easier." She shrugged her shoulders, praying that Umbridge would believe this.

Umbridge was silent for a moment, before an understanding and slightly condescending smile crossed her face. "Of course," she cooed. "I understand entirely." Amy smiled softly, but before she could say good-night, Umbridge continued to talk. "Do you mind my asking what caused this 'rough summer'?"

Amy's fingers froze. She wasn't expecting Umbridge to ask about this. "Oh," she said softly, thinking quickly. She let out a quiet breath. "My, um, my boyfriend and I had an argument, and, um, well, it didn't end well. We haven't talked for a while, and it's just slightly unnerving, I guess." She blinked, as though pushing back tears, although her eyes were perfectly dry.

Umbridge smiled, almost as though she was reveling in the pain she thought Amy was in. "I understand," she chirped. "Well, off to bed then dear." She smiled, as though she was being gracious to the younger witch. Amy's eyes narrowed slightly, but she allowed a false smile to break across her face.

"Goodnight," she answered, brushing past the toad-like witch. Her fake smile turned into a scowl as she walked away. '_Damn witch,' _Amy thought angrily, '_Does she honestly believe I would tell her anything? What a moron.' _Amy rolled her eyes as she rounded the corner, her thoughts moving away from Umbridge and back to what Dumbledore had said before.

'_You must be able to speak openly to those of us in the Order,' _Dumbledore's voice echoed through her head. '_You must be able to speak to us despite what may have happened to you last year, while at home, or even while you were at the headquarters.' _Amy's thoughts drifted to the last task, the sight of Cedric Diggory's body flashing before her eyes. Amy sighed heavily before her thoughts moved onto Chicago, and the conversation that she had with Michelle, and she felt a wave of sadness sweep over her.

She shook her head of curls as she approached her room, her thoughts now swaying to headquarters. '_Did Dumbledore know what happened with Charlie and me?' _Amy remembered the last night she had seen Charlie; the shadows that crossed his strong face, his eyes dark with something, something Amy had yet to identify, the feel of his lips against hers, the prickle of the light hairs from his chin tickling her. Amy shivered slightly at the thought of his hands gripping her waist and the feel of his muscles tensing under her hand.

Amy rubbed her eyes tiredly. She needed to rid herself of these thoughts. It was no use thinking of Charlie, it's not like she had a chance with him anymore. He was gone, and who knew when she would see him again. Amy sighed depressingly at these thoughts before shedding her hoodie and kicking off her shoes, collapsing onto her bed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>I know...it's boring, but I promise I'm getting to the more important stuff (ie. Charlie/Amy) soon! Thanks again!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	21. Chapter 20

**Author's Note: **Okay...please don't kill me... please? I just turned 15...so..please don't... let me plead my case before you all try me! So, first there was homecoming and a whole bunch of volunteer stuff, then my dad's birthday, followed shortly by my dad going to the hospital for a week or so, because he had a heart attack, then rehab, followed by him being readmitted to the hospital for chest pain, then my birthday, then a Latin competition (which I got first place in by the way), and in between all of that I have been doing bits and pieces of this chapter. It's pretty long, so hopefully that will make up for the lapse in updates, but unfortunately there is very little Charlie/Amy, I'm still trying to figure some stuff out, but do not despair! I will not give up! Hopefully, in the next few weeks I should be able to update more, because I am done with school for the week and have a five-day weekend (Thurs., Fri., Sat., Sun., and Monday) and next week is a three-day week, and the week after is a 2.5-day week!

**Dedication: **To Amanda, Dad, Chris, and everyone else whose birthdays have passed!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

* * *

><p>The weekend passed in relative silence. Not to say it wasn't filled with the chatter and laughter of the students, but Amy heard nothing about Sturgis, the Order, Umbridge, or Charlie over the weekend. It seemed to Amy as though no one had taken notice of the article about Sturgis; there were no mentions of him in the halls, it was highly possible that no one had even <em>read <em>the article.

It was a weekend spent hidden in her office, grading papers, writing letters, organizing lesson plans, writing more letters, and disciplining Ravenclaw students, who despite being so intelligent did some pretty stupid things. Did they really think terrorizing the Giant Squid was a good idea? Actually, did they really think it was a good idea to pull the giant squid from the lake and onto the school grounds? They're supposed to be smart! Good lord. Amy slumped against the back of her chair, flexing her fingers to regain some circulation. She rolled her neck, wincing as it cracked, glancing at her watch before moving as though to stand and leave her desk. Before she could straighten though, a knock resounded through the room. Amy groaned quietly, flopping back into her chair.

"Come in!" she called tiredly. _'I swear, it it's another Ravenclaw…' _The door opened, revealing a mass of curly, brown hair. The tentative face of Hermione Granger peered around the wood of the door, and Amy straightened up.

"Professor Wyman?" Hermione asked hesitantly. "Do you have a moment?" Amy's head tilted in a slightly curious way, before nodding.

"Of course," Amy said, watching Hermione stealthily close the door before shuffling, almost sheepishly, across the room to the chair in front of Amy's desk. "What can I help you with, Hermione?" Amy stared curiously at the girl, who appeared to be nervous, although Amy wasn't sure what she was nervous about. The two sat in silence for a moment, Amy staring at the student, who gazed, almost contentedly, at the rug.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question, professor?" Hermione questioned suddenly, looking up from the carpet. "A personal one, professor?" She looked down again, as though she was afraid she was going to be yelled at.

Amy sat still for a moment. _'Were those tears?' _she thought. "Of course, Hermione," she answered in a light tone, trying to ease the girl's obvious discomfort. "Ask away." But Hermione didn't respond immediately. Instead, she continued to stare at the floor beneath her toes. Amy took a moment to survey the girl before her.

Her hair was curly, extremely curly, but she had kind eyes. Brown, wisdom-filled eyes, and from what Amy had seen, Hermione knew how to use that wisdom to her advantage. She thought before she spoke, was helpful, loyal, and blunt to say the least. She knew how to get her point across, something Amy appreciated.

Another moment passed in silence, and Amy decided to take pity on the teen.

"Hermion-" Amy stopped as the girl's head shot up.

"What do you miss about the Muggle world?" She interrupted bluntly. "What's the one thing that you would give anything for to get back from your childhood, before you knew what you truly are?"

Amy's mouth hung open in shock, before she shut it abruptly, pursing her lips together. She tilted her head curiously at the girl, who, surprisingly, was staring determinedly at the teacher. Amy stood up, moving around to the front of her desk. She propped herself against the table, leaning on her arms, looking down at the girl. Amy thought for a moment before responding.

"I miss the simplicity of everything," Amy answered quietly. "I miss how easy everything was and how simple it was to just live every day. Now, everything is complicated. Each day seems to be more complex than the last, and I just miss the plainness that accompanied my Muggle life." Amy looked up at Hermione, who looked away hurriedly, as a soft smile tugging at Amy's lips. "Why do you ask?" When Hermione didn't respond, Amy continued. "It's because of what's going on here, in the Wizarding world, isn't it? You're wondering whether the Wizarding world is really worth all of this trouble. All of the lies, deceit, pain. You want to know if whether it would be better to give up the complexity of the Wizarding world for the simplicity of the Muggle world."

Hermione looked up now, tears glistening in her eyes. "I know it's wrong to feel like this," she gasped. "I shouldn't be afraid of this! I'm a Gryffindor! I'm not supposed to be afraid of this world, and I'm not supposed to even think of betraying my friends, of betraying Harry or R-Ron, it's not right!" The tears had overflown and streamed down her face, dripping off her chin and onto her school skirt. She made no motion to wipe the tears away; to Hermione, it was punishment for ever thinking these traitorous thoughts.

Amy's face was one of mixed emotions; pity for the girl and also understanding, because Amy had gone through the exact thing at Hermione's age, although the feelings weren't as strong as the ones that Hermione was feeling now. She pushed herself away from the desk now, moving to sit next to the sobbing girl, who took no notice of what the teacher was doing. Amy sat hesitantly in her seat, before placing a comforting arm around the girl, who in turn began to sob into Amy's sweater.

"Hermione," Amy began softly, breaking off to collect her thoughts. "It passes. The fear is always there, but the doubt? That passes so quickly that you won't even know what happened. One day you'll be tentative about your existence in this world, and the next, you'll feel as though there's no other place that you belong. I promise."

Hermione sniffled a little before looking up, her tear-stained face filled with hope. "Really?" she whispered desperately. "Are you sure, professor?" Amy laughed quietly.

"I've never been more positive that _everything _will be okay," Amy said reassuringly. Hermione sniffed again, wiping at her face.

"I look a mess, don't I?" she questioned miserably. Amy made a small face, grabbing a tissue from her desk.

"Of course not," Amy smiled gently, wiping the remaining tears away. "You actually look rather composed for someone who was sobbing just moments ago." Hermione smiled bleakly. "Much better than my tired face, I assure you." Hermione laughed now.

"You're not like most teachers, are you?" she questioned, her laughing tone mixed with the remains of an old sob. Amy swallowed heavily, remembering the last time those words had been said to her.

"_You're not like most teachers though," Charlie said, glancing at her._

"_No, I'm not," Amy admitted shamelessly, staring at the maze that was dancing in the summer breeze. "But that's a good thing, right?" Amy asked, tearing her gaze away from the hedges and towards Charlie who looked back at her._

"_A very good thing," he said softly. Their gazes locked, hazel and blue, staring into the others' eyes. Subconsciously, the two leaned forward slightly, their faces nearing each other's in the shadow of the bleachers._

"Professor?" Hermione's voice broke in through the memories. Amy shook her head, pulling herself from the not too long ago past. She bit her lip as she looked up, clearly remembering the dangerous feeling that had bubbled inside of her at the thought of Charlie's lips pressed against her own even months later.

"Oh, um yes?" Amy stumbled, her fingers tearing the tissue that lay in her lap apart. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?" Hermione looked calculatedly at Amy for a moment, making Amy feel as though Hermione was the older, wiser teacher and she was nothing more than a silly fifteen year old. Amy nervously broke their gaze, glancing at the floor.

"You know, I'm not stupid, professor," Hermione stated matter-of-factly. Amy looked up.

"I, uh, never suggested that you were, Hermione," Amy mused in confusion.

Hermione started again. "This means that I've picked up on all of the looks you and a certain Weasley happen to exchange, as well as the fact that since he left, you have not been yourself. You haven't been eating, you seem downtrodden all the time, and you're just not yourself, professor."

Amy gaped at the girl, shutting her mouth hurriedly. "I'm sor-wait-what?" Amy stuttered, blinking rapidly, her face quickly turning red in embarrassment.

Hermione smirked slightly. "Like I said, professor, I'm not stupid," she repeated, the smirk on her face growing wider. "I'm also not blind."

Amy stuttered a few seconds more, before swallowing deeply, and placing a shaky smile across her face. "Of course, you're not," Amy agreed. She looked hurriedly at her watch. "You know, it's almost curfew, so, you should probably be heading back to your dorm. Umbridge won't turn a blind eye to anyone who breaks the rules, especially a Gryffindor." Amy looked pointedly at Hermione.

"Right, of course," Hermione exclaimed, standing hastily and moving across the office towards the door. As she reached the door, she paused looking back at Amy, whose face was still red. "Professor, one last question? I swear." She added as she caught sight of Amy's disbelieving face. Amy stared calculatedly at the student for a moment before nodding. "Have you heard anything about Professor Umbridge and any upcoming changes at Hogwarts?"

Amy looked curiously at the young girl, whose face was a mask of innocence. She narrowed her eyes slightly, trying to get any information from the girl, but she was revealing nothing. "No, I haven't," Amy answered slowly, looking for any cracks in Hermione's seemingly angelic façade. "Have you?"

"No," Hermione twitted lightly. "Good night, Professor Wyman. Thank you for everything." She exited the room, leaving Amy alone with her slightly confused thoughts, not exactly sure what had just happened in the last ten minutes. First Hermione was nervous, then sobbing, then giving her love advice, and then she was randomly asking about Umbridge's position at Hogwarts? What exactly went on in that girl's mind?

Amy sighed, tiredly rubbing her eyes, before gathering up her papers, extinguishing the candles, and leaving her office, heading in the general direction of her room. While her mind should have been on Hermione's mental state or this new idea that Hermione had mentioned about Umbridge's position, Amy instead was thinking of what Hermione had said about Charlie and her, about how she had seen how they looked at each other as well as the fact that since he had left she hadn't been herself since they had…since they had kissed.

It had been several weeks since Amy had received contact from any Weasley working for the Order, which she had yet to decide on if it was good or not. After all, she had expected some form of contact, whether it just be a letter from Arthur asking for some information on the wizards and witches helping the Order via America or Molly just checking in on her. Molly had become somewhat of a surrogate mother to Amy, which at times was nice, but at other times awkward seeing as Molly was the mother of the man that Amy was in lo-

Amy shook her head desperately, forcing those thoughts back to the deepest abyss in her mind, before sealing that abyss off with a couple million tons of cement and several rolls of heavy duty duct tape.

'_Nope,' _she thought hysterically. '_Nope, nope, nope, I cannot ever let those thoughts resurface. Nope, nope, nope.'_

…..

Apparently Hermione Granger was a seer in a past life of hers, because the next morning, Amy awoke to a crowd of disgruntled and confused students, all of whom were jabbering on and on about that morning's _Daily Prophet. _Amy wasn't exactly sure what they were talking about until she caught sight of a toad on the front page of the newspaper. A toad which Amy later realized was Umbridge.

'_The resemblance is uncanny,' _Amy mused as she pulled her copy of the _Prophet _closer to her. She leaned casually back in her chair, tipping back slightly on the chair's back legs, as she balanced herself by setting her feet precariously on the edge of her desk. She had yet to really explore the cover of the _Prophet_ which probably explained what happened next.

A single look at the title forced Amy to sit up hurriedly, her chair slipping out from under her, and the next moment, Amy was flat on her back staring up at the ceiling. The few students who had arrived early to her class stared at the now empty desk where their teacher had been several moments before.

"Um, Professor?" a girl asked timidly from the back of the room. Amy shot up, her head just clearing the top of the desk. Her cheeks were red with embarrassment, but she forced a smile onto her face.

"Yep?" she asked brightly, her eyes gleaming slightly maniacally. The girl glanced nervously at the other kids in the room who shrugged, before turning back to her teacher.

"Are you okay?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow curiously.

"I'm super," Amy chirped. "Super duper. Just super."

The student giggled nervously. "Right, of course," she noted, pressing her lips together before turning back to her work. Amy smiled forcibly, before flopping back onto the ground behind her desk.

"Oh boy," she muttered to herself, rubbing her forehead. She shook her head slightly, reaching for the _Daily Prophet _that lay several inches away from her. She picked it up, holding it above her face so she could clearly read the headlines.

**MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM**

**DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER "HIGH INQUISITOR"**

Amy hurriedly scanned the article, a grim feeling building up inside of her as she continued through the entire story. As she reached the end, Amy's hand slumped to the ground.

"Well," she whispered, "This sucks."

…..

It was actually later that day, just before lunch, that Umbridge arrived in Amy's classroom. It was not a pleasant surprise, to say the least. The seventh year students had just settled into their seats, and Amy was about to begin the lesson when that annoying little "_hem hem" _broke the silence, drawing the classroom's attention to the back of the room where the queen of toads stood.

"Professor Umbridge," Amy greeted with false brightness, subconsciously smoothing her sweater of any wrinkles. There was no use in trying to smooth her unruly hair, she knew that. She also knew that this evaluation had nothing to do with how she taught the class, but it was instead how she looked and what Umbridge thought of her. Amy knew that she was going to have to hold her tongue around the toad for the next few weeks unless she wanted to on probation or out of a job. "I wasn't expecting you."

Umbridge raised an eyebrow. "I do believe I sent you a note," she chirped, raising a clipboard from under her arm as she prepared to write down a note.

"Ah yes, you did," Amy answered a coy smile crossing her face. "That note however only said that you would be coming to evaluate me. You never actually provided me with a time or date." So much for holding her tongue. Several of the students smirked, pleased to see that the toad had been one-upped, even just a little.

Umbridge scowled bitterly, jotting down a hurried note with a flourish.

"As I was saying," Amy began again, looking away from Umbridge and now towards her students. "Today, we are going to start our work on the Undetectable Extension Charm. Now, I understand that most schools do not actually teach this charm until the end of seventh year, but I believe-"

"_Hem, hem."_

Amy broke off, her eyes darting towards Umbridge. Her hazel eyes flashed dangerously, and several students squirmed in their seats, anxious to see Umbridge verbally assaulted. The Weasley Twins had identical grins stretched across their faces.

"May I help you, professor?" Amy strained through clenched teeth. Umbridge smiled pointedly.

"I was under the impression that this charm was more advanced, perhaps too advanced for seventh years," she chirped brightly, her quill poised over her parchment, ready to write down every detail.

Amy bit her lip to keep herself from lashing out too much, but then again, it was in her nature to be snarky.

"I believe if you were actually listening, professor," Amy quipped, her eyes narrowing slightly, "You would have noticed that I did in fact say that this charm isn't taught until the end of seventh year, _but _ I believe that this class is ahead in their studies and therefore should be able to start learning this charm today.

"Now," Amy said, turning back to her students again. "The theory for this particular spell can be found on page 354 in your textbooks, but before we begin practicing the spell, I'm just going to give you a very brief summary of what the charm does."

A small smile crossed her face. "This spell," she began, "is a charm that extends an object, without detection. Amazing, I know. You never would have guessed!" The class laughed, pleased to see their teacher acting normally again. "Alright, alright, everyone get to work! Remember theory is on page 354, if you need it, there are book bags, purses, trunks, and boxes at the front of the room to practice on, I am here, so don't be afraid to ask for help, that's what boggarts are for, and I expect at least the slightest bit of progress by the end of this class! Now, get to it." Amy clapped her hands lightly, as the students noisily took out their textbooks, flipping to the correct page.

As the class began their work, Amy wandered around the room watching the students as they worked, correcting their wand motions and pronunciation of the spell, all the while being stalked by Umbridge, who shadowed her, taking notes on everything she did. It was annoying to the largest extent, so annoying that Amy made sure to stop abruptly every once in a while, causing Umbridge to bump into her, usually dropping her materials. It was quite fun actually and made up for Umbridge's annoyance. Umbridge would occasionally stop to speak to a few students (although Amy noted that she never stopped near the Weasley Twins, who were eyeing her evilly, obviously planning something that could potentially hurt the Toad). Umbridge, however, had yet to ask Amy a question, but she was sure that they were coming.

As Amy continued down the row of students, she heard Umbridge's girly voice break through the voices of her students. "Miss Spinnet, what is your opinion on your Charms lessons?"

Amy casually strolled to a halt several desks away, pretending to focus on Lee Jordan's work, while secretly listening to Umbridge and Alicia's conversation.

"Oh!" Alicia thought for a moment. "They're usually a lot like this. They're really good, and we learn a lot all the time. We don't really waste time in this class."

Amy heard the scratching of a quill on parchment as Umbridge took notes on what Alicia said. The rest of the questions were very similar, synonymous even, until the last one.

"Do you think that Professor Wyman is suitable to be teaching? Have you ever felt that she is careless or sloppy or perhaps even lacking in rudimentary skills?"

Amy restrained herself from turning around to face the Toad. _'Don't punch her. Don't punch her. Don't punch her,' _she repeated in her head, almost missing Alicia's response.

"Sloppy? Careless?" Alicia asked, confusion laced in her words. "Professor Wyman? No, never! I think I've learned more in a year from her than I ever could have imagined. She's brilliant! Lacking in rudimentary skills? She can do the most amazing spells I've ever seen before! It's astounding what she can do. Plus, she's American, which makes it even more astounding!"

A large smile crossed Amy's face, although her eyes did narrow ever so slightly at the American comment. _'That'll show Umbridge!'_

The bell rang before Umbridge could ask any more questions, and the seventh years stood, beginning to pack up their bags.

"Right!" Amy cried over the noise. "For next class, I want you all to have written a scroll on the negatives and positives of this charm. Do you think you will ever need this charm, and do you believe that this charm is outdated? That's due at the beginning of class on Wednesday, now get out of here!"

As the students exited the room, Amy busied herself, picking up the bags and boxes that the students had left on their desks. She hoped that Umbridge would leave as well, but alas, when Amy turned around, the pink Toad was still in the room, a simpering smile on her large face.

"Amy," she began, a coy smirk on her face. "I just have a few questions for you. I hope you don't mind."

Amy shrugged nonchalantly. "Nope, not at all," she drawled, holding back her sarcasm. "Shoot."

Umbridge's pointed teeth glimmered. "How long have you been working at Hogwarts?"

"This is my second year."

"How do you feel about Hogwarts? Do you believe there is enough school management?"

"Hogwarts is amazing. I wish I had the opportunity to have gone here to study. The management here is outstanding; couldn't ask for anything more."

"Do you feel that your age makes you less able or worthy than the other teachers?"

"Nope," Amy said, turning away uninterestedly. She began to rummage through the papers on her desk. Umbridge continued to take notes.

"Finally question. Do you support the Ministry in our claim about You-Know-Who?"

Amy's hands stilled, and she straightened herself, before turning to face the teacher, now towering over her.

"No, I do not," she answered simply. "I believe that the Ministry is just hiding behind their faults, and are too afraid, too cowardly even, to face the truth about the rebirth of Voldemort."

Umbridge, surprisingly, didn't flinch, but her mouth quirked. "Is that so? You believe that Ministry is cowardly, and by extension, the Minister himself? A coward?" Excitement was laced in Umbridge's words. This was exactly what she wanted, but it was too late to turn back now.

"I've never seen a bigger coward than Cornelius Fudge," Amy answered blandly, no hint of falseness in her eyes. "Now, if you excuse me, I have better things to do then to answer your questions." Amy grabbed a stack of papers, walking to the door of the classroom before stopping.

"By the way," Amy added, Umbridge turning to look at her. "You can't really usually my political opinions against me in this instance, after all, I am an American citizen, and this is a performance review, not a review on my views on British Wizarding politics." Amy smiled brightly at the scowl on Umbridge's face, before closing the door behind her.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Hope you enjoyed! Charlie should be back soon!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	22. Chapter 21

**AN: **Umm... yeah... next chapter? Please don't hurt me... you'll see what I mean...

**Dedication: **Ummm... to my readers?

**Disclaimer: **I quite obviously do not own Harry Potter... I wish I did, but I quite obviously do not.

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><p>September passed quickly, and soon, the first trip to Hogsmeade was upon the Hogwarts community. It would be nice to get out of the student filled castle. It was getting a little too formal because of a certain toad-like teacher with a habit of wearing hideously ugly velvet bows.<p>

Unfortunately for Amy, she was unable to leave the castle at the start of the Hogsmeade trip, because she had been recruited by McGonagall into overseeing some detentions for her. Needless to say, Amy would much rather have been outside rather than stuck inside babysitting a group of first years who had decided that it was in their best interest to annoy Filch.

By the time Amy was allowed to release the eleven year olds, there was only two hours left for the trip, and Amy didn't really want to have be stuck in Hogsmeade by herself. To avoid this, Amy hurried quickly to her room, grabbing a fall coat and scarf before rushing down the stairs and out the entrance of the castle.

The road to Hogsmeade was basically deserted, but Amy kept a wary eye on her surroundings. After all, she wasn't within the protection of Hogwarts anymore; anyone could pop up in the village, anyone at all.

As Amy entered the village, she realized something was slightly odd. There didn't seem to be many students out and about, and to make it even odder was the fact that Hogwarts was basically drained of any upper classmen. Amy turned her head slowly noting that the Hogwarts students that she did see were mostly Slytherins.

Shaking these thoughts from her mind, Amy began to meander through the streets, peering into the different windows of the stores. There wasn't a real need for Amy to be in Hogsmeade, she just needed to get out of the tense atmosphere that was building inside the school.

As Amy browsed the shelves of the local book store, she took no notice of a crowd of Hogwarts students, Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs alike, emerging from the outskirts of Hogsmeade. It wasn't until a certain trio passed by that Amy noticed that the streets of Hogsmeade were much more crowded than they had been when she had first arrived.

Amy shut the book that she had been flipping through, setting it down on a shelf as she approached the store window, looking curiously out into the street. Her hazel eyes narrowed slightly as she caught sight of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger, who seemed to be bickering amongst themselves, as they exited a building at the edge of the village, a building which Amy realized to be the Hog's Head.

'_What on earth were they doing in there?' _ she thought, her eyebrows scrunching together as she thought. She waved good-bye to the clerk as she exited the store, pushing her way through the crowd of students. She didn't get far before giving up because of 1) the mob of students and 2) Charlie Weasley, who had just Apparated next to the Three Broomsticks.

Amy froze for as Charlie turned, looking over the heads of the students, his eyes swept over her several times. She saw his eyes light up as he called, "Oi! Ron! Ron!" Amy followed his line of sight to the three Gryffindors, who smiled brightly at the older Weasley.

"Charlie!" Ron yelled over the noise of the other students, the argument the three had been having moments ago disappearing. The trio pushed their way through the crowd of students to the dragonkeeper who grinned brightly. He pulled Ron into a hug, making sure to mess up his hair, before shaking hands with Harry and giving Hermione a much less brief and gentler hug.

As the two brothers began to talk, Hermione looked over her shoulder catching sight of Amy who was staring despondently at the four. Hermione's face softened in sympathy, and Amy looked hurriedly away, not wanting the sympathy of the sixteen year old.

She was about to abandon her outing, and as she turned to head back to the castle Amy heard Hermione's voice. "I'll be right back. I need to ask Professor Wyman a question about her last lesson." Again, Amy froze. Charlie now knew that Amy was in fact in Hogsmeade, but would he care?

The last time they had seen each other they had kissed and before they could talk about what had happened Amy was gone, scared away by her own feelings for him. It had been almost two months since they had seen each other. Two months since they had kissed, two months since Amy had run away, two months since Amy had realized that she had deep, passionate feelings for a man who had the same feelings, and it had been two months since he had left, leaving Amy with crushed hopes.

Amy heard Charlie break off mid-sentence as Ron and Harry bid Hermione good-bye. Amy began walking again, hoping to lose the fifth year in the crowd of students, but alas it was mere moments before Hermione found herself next to the professor.

"Professor Wyman," Hermione began brightly. "May I have a moment?" Amy looked hesitantly back at the Three Broomsticks, relieved when she saw that Harry and the two brothers were nowhere in sight.

Amy raised her eyebrows as she turned back to the girl. "I do hope this is about homework or extra credit," Amy stated with pursed lips.

"It depends on what you consider to be extra credit, professor," Hermione smiled.

"An extra essay or perhaps helping prepare my lessons for younger classes. Tutoring even," Amy responded.

"Hmm," Hermione thought. "I actually had a different idea on what extra credit would be. I kind of thought that helping a dear professor, such as yourself, reunite with a certain redheaded dragonkeeper would count, but I guess I can work with your idea." A large smile spread across Hermione's face.

Amy looked hesitantly around her, praying that no Weasley would be within hearing distance. When she saw that she was in the clear, Amy leaned forward. "Miss Granger," she said, speaking very clearly so as to get her statement across. "What exactly do you think you are doing?"

Hermione's smile widened.

"Helping," she answered simply, before grabbing the professor by the wrist and dragging her towards the pub. Amy tugged at her wrist, desperate to get away from the impending doom that would come with Charlie Weasley, but despite popular belief, Hermione Granger is much stronger than she appears.

Hermione stopped outside the door to the pub, turning briefly to Amy, a woman, who when outside of her classroom, was more of a sister to the students than a professor. "You'll thank me for this one day," she said candidly, before pulling open the door to the tavern.

Amy had hoped that Hermione would release Amy's wrist upon their entrance to avoid suspicion of a possible kidnapping (or is it adult-napping? Teacher-napping perhaps?), but alas Hermione only linked arms with Amy, as though they were old friends catching up. Hermione took a moment to look around the pub, before pulling Amy to a booth in the back of the room where Harry, Ron, and Charlie sat, laughing over glasses of butterbeer.

As they grew closer, Amy took a moment to survey Charlie. He didn't look much different than when they had last seen each other in August, perhaps a little thinner and more tired, but still the same old Charlie, still carelessly attractive, and at that moment, Amy wished that she had taken a few moments to have fixed her hair or put on a newer pair of jeans, rather than the frayed, old ones that she was wearing. The three looked up as Hermione and Amy approached, and Amy was relieved to see that Charlie looked just as uncomfortable as she at their appearance.

Hermione quickly settled into the booth next to Ron and Harry leaving the only spot left to Amy next to Charlie. Amy took a deep breath, before seating herself, although she sat as far away from Charlie as she could. Silence fell upon the group.

'_Well,' _she thought bitterly after a moment. '_This is awkward.' _Charlie appeared to be having the same thoughts.

Across the table, the Gryffindor trio seemed to be arguing silently amongst themselves, although over what, Amy wasn't exactly sure. She just hoped Hermione wouldn't do something stupid.

Hermione turned away from the two boys to face Charlie and Amy. "We should actually go," she started, standing up and pulling Ron up with her. "These two haven't started their homework yet, and the teachers decided to pile it all on this weekend." She sent a pointed look at Amy. "We'll see you soon, Charlie! And think about my idea for that extra credit assignment, professor." The two boys bid good-bye to Charlie and Amy as well.

As Amy and Charlie sat in an awkward silence, Amy heard Ron ask, "What extra credit assignment?" followed by a loud "shhh!" and a smack.

'_Who am I kidding?' _Amy thought in irritation, as Hermione, Ron, and Harry exited the pub. '_She's a freaking genius. Evil genius, but a genius nonetheless.'_

Silence quickly settled upon Amy and Charlie as Amy picked at the top of the table and Charlie nervously scratched at his nose. Amy turned her head away to survey the crowd of Hogwarts students.

"So," Charlie started hesitantly. "How was the rest of your summer?" Amy turned to him, disbelief etched across her face, her eyes flashing. Amy pushed herself away from the table, shaking her head in irritation as she stormed out of the pub. "Amy! Wait, Amy!" Charlie called after her. He threw some coins on to the table, chasing Amy out of the tavern.

Amy was half way down the much less crowded street when Charlie reached the road. "Amy!" he cried again. Immediately, Amy sped up, breaking into a run as she raced farther away from the castle and Charlie and closer to the woods. She could hear Charlie pursuing her, but she only sped up, determined to lose him.

After several twists and turns, Amy found herself at a gate, a couple hundred feet away from the Shrieking Shack. She pressed her hands against the wiring, breathing deeply so as to catch her breath. Behind her, Amy heard Charlie tear around the last of the trees. Amy turned, pressing her back against the gate, her fingers lacing through the edges of the gate.

"Amy," Charlie breathed as he stumbled to a halt.

"What, Charlie? What?" Amy demanded thickly. "What do you have to say now? Or are you just going to run away again?" Charlie's eyes narrowed.

"Me? Run away?" he cried in disbelief. "Oh, that's rich coming from you!"

Amy took a few furious steps towards him. "What's that supposed to mean?" she challenged. Charlie stepped towards her until they were only a few inches apart.

"I kissed you," Charlie rasped, leaning down to face Amy straight on. "I kissed you and you ran. That's all you can do, run. What did you want me to do? Did you want me to just wait around for you?" Charlie cut himself off at the broken look on Amy's face. She stumbled a few steps back, her arms wrapping around her cold body.

"What do you think I've been doing, Charlie?" she whispered hoarsely. "What do you think I've been doing since you left? I've been sitting in that damn castle waiting. Waiting for you to come back, waiting for something good to happen to me, waiting for the pain that you caused to leave… I've just been waiting." Charlie hard face softened as tears coursed down Amy's face, her resolve beginning to crumble.

"Amy," Charlie murmured reaching a hand out to touch her, but she jerked away.

"I'm-I'm sorry, Charlie," she whispered, wiping at her tears. "I wish-I wish I could help you. I wish I could take away the pain, but I caused that pain. You did kiss me, and it was unfair of me to think that you would wait for me, even for a day." She took another step back. "I so wish that we could be together, but…but…" Amy broke off. "I guess you're right. All I can do is run."

Amy pushed passed Charlie, running back the way they had come.

"Amy! Amy, please!" he called after her, running to the start of the road, but she was already too far ahead. Charlie stared after her small figure as it raced back towards the castle as night began to fall.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>...please, please, please don't hurt me? Umm... yeah... review? Yell at me? Praise me? Yell at me some more? Review?

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	23. Chapter 22

**AN: **Hello, hello! I hope all of you have had a fantastic week! I have... kind of.. anyway! Here is the next chapter! It's basically a combination of chapters 17-20, so there is quite a bit of information here, as well as some sad!Amy... yep, yep! I don't know why... but I feel pretty hyper even though it's midnight and I have to get up for school in six hours! YAY FRIDAYS! Ahahah... I blame the sugar cookies...

**Dedication: **To... Harry Potter?

**Disclaimer: **I'm going to let Percy Jackson do the disclaimer today!

Percy: You do know, I'm not from this fandom, right?

WiseGirl: You don't know that! Did you forget, you lost your memories!

Percy: Yeah, but-

WiseGirl: Just do the damn disclaimer!

Percy: Okay, okay! WiseGirl does not own any characters that her readers may recognize.

WiseGirl: Thank you. There was that so hard?

Percy: Well, actually, when your brain is made of seaweed...

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><p>For Amy, the rest of the weekend was spent in the solitude her bedroom offered to her. This wouldn't have been too outside the norm if she hadn't been in tears, sniffling and crying, for the majority of the time. She honestly should have done some work over her weekend, but instead her encounter with Charlie filtered in and out of her brain continuously.<p>

'_Damn Hermione Granger,' _Amy thought bitterly. '_She just had to.' _Amy didn't really blame the young Gryffindor, she just needed to take her bitterness out on someone, although never to the girl's face; that would just be out of line. Amy knew that, which is why she kept all those happy little thoughts to herself.

Monday morning dawned bright and clear, obviously the day was soaking up the last bit of autumn before becoming a dark and dreary winter. But Monday morning was accompanied with more than just sunshine, something much more unnerving

A flyer had been slipped under Amy's door during the night, and it wasn't exactly the best idea to read the handout first thing in the morning.

**EDUCATIONAL DECREE NUMBER TWENTY-FOUR**

Normally, Amy would have set the flyer aside and taken no real notice of it, but today something stopped her, telling her that she should actually pay attention to what it had to say. And Amy was glad she had.

"What is the whole reasoning behind this?" Amy demanded thrusting the flyer into Umbridge's face after she had finally cornered her mid-day. "Why would you dissolve all of these organizations? Clubs and teams help students build character and strengthen their voice. How did you think that disbanding all groups at Hogwarts would be a good idea?"

"Are you questioning my methods, Professor Wyman?" Umbridge questioned in her girly voice. "Because I can assure you, that I only have the best interests of my students at heart." A creepy smile began to spread across her face. Two could play at this game.

"Really? Their best interests?" Amy stipulated. "You do know that it is a proven fact that students who are involved in an extracurricular receive better grades then students who are not? So, how exactly would removing extracurriculars, which are scientifically proven to help students, be beneficially?"

"If you had finished reading the flyer, you would have noticed that it clearly states that any organization can be reformed, they just need permission from the High Inquisitor," Umbridge broke in coolly.

"You mean from you," Amy retorted just as brisk. "Which of course mean that the decision will be completely unbiased, right?" Sarcasm had begun to leak into Amy's voice. It seemed that her encounter with Charlie had started a burning flame within Amy.

"If I were you, Wyman," Umbridge said, stepping forward, raising a pudgy finger to Amy. "I would watch what you say. One day, one day soon even, I will have power-"

"And what are you going to do?" Amy interrupted, her bright eyes dark and flashing. "Fire me?"

Umbridge stepped back, straightening the top of her dress. "Watch yourself, Wyman. One day that attitude of yours is going to come back to haunt you." Umbridge began to walk away, her head high.

"Can't wait," Amy murmured, turning on the spot to head to her next class. Since Amy was running a little behind schedule, she took a short cut through the dungeons, where she caught sight of fifth year Slytherins and Gryffindors, waiting to enter their potions class.

"My father says it's a matter of time before the Ministry has him carted off to St. Mungos," Draco Malfoy was saying to his cronies, obviously aware of the fact that everyone could hear him. "Apparently they've got a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic." Malfoy gave an offensive look to his friends, and Amy saw Neville Longbottom coming before anyone else.

His normally kind face was now one of pure fury, and he was heading straight for Malfoy. Amy pulled her wand from her pocket, prepared to send a Shield Charm if the need should arise, but Harry caught onto what Neville was doing, pulling the boy back just in time.

"Neville, _no!" _Harry cried, dragging a flustered and extremely pissed off Neville away from a surprised Malfoy, who was flanked by his hulking bodyguards, Crabbe and Goyle.

Amy hurried forward, stepping between the two groups of students, the Gryffindors who were determined to stop Neville from hurting himself and the Slytherins who were jeering and cheering Neville on, encouraging him to fight.

"Hey!" Amy demanded. "Stop it, all of you." Amy looked to Harry who was still holding onto a now weakly struggling Neville. Before Amy could tell Harry and Ron to release Neville, Snape appeared from the shadows of his dungeon classroom at the same moment that Umbridge appeared from the shadows of the corridor.

"What the devil is going on here?" he sneered, looking from the Gryffindors to Slytherins and then Amy who was standing between them. His eyes finally landed on Neville, Ron, and Harry and his sneer widened. "Fighting Potter, Weasley, Longbottom? Ten points from Gryffindor." Snape turned to the other students. "Inside, all of you." With one last look at the three boys, Snape turned, his cloak swirling foolishly behind him. Umbridge followed him inside, her beady eyes filled to the brim with excitemen. She shook her head slightly at Amy, removing her clipboard from under her arm to make a note on a spare piece of parchment.

"Tsk tsk," she said quietly as she entered the classroom. Amy took a deep breath, exhaling through her nose. She turned back to the Gryffindors.

"Harry, Ron let go of Neville. You should get into class." Harry and Ron released their arms from Neville, who in turn glared at his dorm mates before hurrying inside. Ron and Harry exchanged looks before following him inside, giving Amy a weak wave of good-bye as the passed her.

Amy sighed, looking at her watch. "And now I am late to my own class. What a freaking fantastic day."

…..

The next day dawned dark and dreary, and Amy didn't see much of the Gryffindor students until her fifth year class that rainy morning, most of which was spent chasing escaped frogs and ravens as the students practiced a Silencing Charm. It was quite obvious that most of the students needed a bit more practice if the cacophony of sound in the room was anything to tell by.

As Amy hurried past Ron, Harry, and Hermione's table, she overhead a snippet of their conversation; she didn't mean too, it's just that when as a teacher, students think that you can't hear what they say when you're turned around. Truth is, even as teachers, they're still humans, therefore they can still hear. Surprise, surprise.

"If she had caught Snuffles…" Hermione was whispering to the others.

"He'd probably be back in Azkaban this morning," Harry finished moodily, jabbing his want at his toad.

Now normal if Amy heard a conversation that didn't make any sense at all, she would brush it aside and forget about it, figuring that she would've needed the whole conversation to understand but something about what they said nagged at her mind.

'_Snuffles? Azkaban? They couldn't possibly be talking about…. No, that doesn't make sense… does it?' _Amy thought quickly, trying to make sense of what she had heard. Class ended before she could figure it out.

"Alright guys!" Amy called. "Try and get some practice in before next class! Try to test it out on maybe an owl or cat rather than your friends please, I don't want to deal with complaints from teachers saying that their students have been charmed into silence!"

As the students exited the room, Amy settled herself at her desk, pondering over what she had heard. "Snuffles? Azkaban? What on earth are they up to?" Amy whispered to herself, the silence of her room her only answer.

…..

The next dawned no better than the previous; the sky was dark and rain poured from heavy clouds. Yet despite the bleak weather, a spark seemed to have been ignited within some of the students, a bright spark, one of hope, although none of the students really acted outside the norm.

In the evening, Amy went for a walk, exploring the castle, whose corridors were already imbedded into her brain. It was rather calming listening to the creaks and groans of the castle, mixing in with the faint voices of students who were still in faraway hallways, and Amy hoped that calmness of the castle would soothe her thoughts of Charlie . Amy sighed, leaning against a cool wall on the seventh floor, pushing all thoughts away from her thought ridden mind, willing herself not to start crying. She knew it would be hard for her to not think about Charlie, after all, he was all she had thought about for a while, and he was one of the few things that she had truly grown to care for (really care for) while living in England. She had fallen for him, and she had fallen hard, and although she didn't want to admit this, she feared that what Hermione Granger had been implying may actually be right… Amy may have really fallen in love with the dragonkeeper. Amy swallowed forcefully at the thought, and despite herself, an image of Charlie appeared in her mind, his face close to hers, and she could almost feel his breath against her cheek as he leaned closer and closer…

As Amy rested her head against the wall pushing the image from her head and willing the stress of the past few days to leave her body, she overheard the voices of students who were very close to her.

"Filch is on the second floor," a voice was saying, "and Mrs. Norris is on the fourth." Amy straightened slightly, listening intently to the voices.

"And Umbridge?" a light female voice broke in.

"In her office," the first voice said. "Okay, let's go." Amy leaned towards the edge of the wall, peeking her head over the wall's edge to see who was talking. It wasn't a huge surprise to Amy to find that it was the infamous Gryffindor trio, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The next few moments were a surprise however.

The trio turned swiftly to face a blank stretch of wall, looks of concentration evident on their faces, as they paced three times in front of the bricks. Amy's eyes widened in astonishment when a large wooden door emerged from the wall, polished handle and everything. The three stood there for a moment, before Harry reached out to grasp the doorknob, opening the door. Harry hurried through the door, followed by Ron and then Hermione who cast a furtive look around the corridor, before closing the door behind her.

As the door closed, Amy leaned forward a bit more, determined to see what was in the room, but was unsuccessful. Before she could move forward to open the door herself and find out what was inside, the wooden door disintegrated into itself, leaving nothing but the blank stretch of well. Amy stopped in her steps, curiosity raging through her. As a teacher, she probably should have followed them in and demanded what they were up to, but as a human being, Amy had a feeling that this had something to do with the little spark of hope that had been burning throughout the school. She also had a feeling that it had something to do with a certain Toad.

Amy could have stood there for the rest of the night, debating between following her gut and leaving or doing her duties as a teacher and preventing her students from breaking the rules. Alas, her decision making was cut short as the echoing sound of shoes ricocheted off the walls. Not wanting to take the chance of the shoes belonging to Filch, or worse Umbridge, Amy took cover behind a wall. To her relief, and of course, adding to her budding curiosity, several Gryffindors rounded the corner before stopping before the same blank stretch of wall.

Not wanting to learn anymore about this obvious secret meeting, Amy turned away from the students, and began her walk back to her room.

'_If they're fighting against Umbridge,' _Amy thought as the sound of even more feet filled the corridor behind her, '_then I am not going to do a thing. I never saw a thing.'_

…..

The next few weeks flew by, and while Amy's thoughts were constantly plagued by Charlie Weasley, she noticed that with each passing day that little spark of hope seemed to grow larger and larger. Amy did her best to take no notice of these secret 'meetings', but some students _*coughcough* Hufflepuffs *cough cough*, _were a bit too obvious about sneaking out. It took all of her restraint not to step out of her office as they snuck back to their common rooms to tell them to quiet their sneaking.

Soon the first Quidditch match of the season was upon Hogwarts, and with it excitement and happiness spread through the castle. _Finally_, a reason for everyone to jump up and down and scream. On the day of the match, Hogwarts was divided into two sets of colors: red and gold versus green and silver, although it seemed that the majority of the Hogwarts population was in Gryffindor colors. As a mob, the students and teachers of Hogwarts moved down to the Quidditch pitch, bundled up in coats, hats, scarves, and gloves as the November cold descended upon them. In preparation for the match, Amy buried all thoughts of Charlie Weasley from her mind. Amy refused to let any thought of him to cross her mind during the match. She needed to be happy today, she needed to…to get over him, no matter how hard it may be, and the sooner she started, the sooner she would be over him.

Before the match, Amy found herself seated next Professor McGonagall who was decked in Gryffindor red and gold, contrasting quite obviously against Snape who was wearing a dark (dark, dark, _dark) _green cloak and Slytherin scarf. The two had been at the other's throats all week, much to the chagrin of the rest of the staff (although Amy was hoping that McGonagall would just _crack _and either kill Snape or turn him into a yak or otter, anything would be better than what he was like now).

Although this was in fact Amy's first Hogwarts Quidditch game, she restrained herself from picking a side, and instead was sporting a very thick Muggle pullover hoodie. Her attire was the only thing that separated her from the rest of the crowd; Amy was just as excited about the game as the others, almost bouncing up and down in her seat with excitement.

The two teams, Gryffindor and Slytherin, made their way onto the field where Madam Hooch, who was an elderly witch that Amy had met only at the beginning of the term, was waiting. The two captains shook hands, the teams mounted their brooms, and the game began, the balls being released into the open air.

Amy watched in fascination as the Chasers, well, chased after the Quaffle. This wasn't her first Quidditch game, it was just that at Salem, the Quidditch matches were never as intense as these, the crowd was never as rowdy, and the players were rarely as eager as the Hogwarts players, and never were any of the Academy teachers as fired up as Professor McGonagall, who was jumping up and down with the rest of the crowd in between shouting at Lee Jordan, who was commentating the match.

As the game progressed though, the Gryffindor supporters' excitement died down as their team fell behind, 20 to 0, whilst the Slytherin supporters grew louder and louder, all of them chanting the lyrics to their crude song.

THAT'S WHY SLYTHERINS ALL SING:  
>WEASLEY IS OUR KING.<p>

"Come on, guys!" Amy cried, slapping her hand on the railing as her voice was lost in the singing of the Slytherins. Alas, Slytherin scored again, twice, while Gryffindor was only able to make one shot. While they were only thirty points behind, the Gryffindor supporters began to lose hope as the Slytherin supporters continued to sing.

WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN,  
>HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN,<br>WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN-

A red blur dove towards the ground, and the crowd shot forward, watching avidly as Harry Potter plummeted towards earth, following the wickedly fast Snitch, Draco Malfoy chasing after him, their hands out stretch, desperate to close their hand around the gold ball. They scrambled for a moment, before Harry's hand shot into the air, the Snitch's struggling wings fluttering outside his hand.

The Gryffindor supporters shot from their seats, jumping up and down, screaming and hollering in victory, whilst the Slytherins dejectedly slumped onto the benches, throwing down their posters and banners. Amy turned to congratulate a very jovial McGonagall, almost missing the next sequence of events that were happening in the center of the Quidditch Pitch.

Malfoy, who had landed near Harry and the rest of the celebrating Gryffindor team, a furious sneer carved into his face. Amy wasn't sure what was being said, but all of sudden Harry and George Weasley shot forward, fists pulled back, both of them slamming their fists into Malfoy, who collapsed. Behind the brawling trio, the rest of the Gryffindor team was visibly restraining Fred Weasley from joining the fight. Within seconds, Hooch and several other teachers, including Amy, were on the field, wands drawn.

The fight was over as quickly as it had started, as Hooch shot an Impediment Jinx at the trio, sending them flying away from each other. Amy and the rest of the teachers pushed their way to the front of the growing, jeering crowd.

"What do you think you're doing?" Hooch cried as Harry and George sat up, rubbing at their bruised knuckles, while Malfoy remained curled up in pain on the ground, groaning and complaining. "I've never seen behavior like it – back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! _Now!" _The two boys marched off the field, subdued despite the jeers they were receiving from the crowd.

Hooch stomped off towards her office, as McGonagall stormed towards the castle, followed by Snape, who was accompanying Malfoy and his cronies up to the Infirmary, leaving Amy behind to sort out the rest of the school.

Sighing, she pointed her wand at her throat, mumbling a charm. "Alright everyone!" Amy called, her voice magically magnified through the entire pitch. "Everyone please return to the castle." She looked up at the grey, heavy clouds. "It will probably start to snow soon, and no one really wants to be stuck out here when that happens, do they?" Amy drew her wand away from her neck as the students began their march back to the castle.

'_Well_,' Amy thought to herself, falling into line behind some Ravenclaws. '_That was an interesting game_.'

It wasn't until after dinner that Amy learned that Harry and the Weasley Twins had received a life-long Quidditch ban. "I wonder who gave them that punishment," Amy muttered bitterly, pushing away one of the flyers that had been distributed featuring Educational Decree Number Twenty Five. Amy shook her head sourly, sending a brief scowl at Umbridge who was seated two chairs down from the Charms professor, daintily eating at her supper, until Filch shuffled up behind her. He whispered something into the Toad's ear, and she set down her fork, an evil, pointed grin stretching across her face.

'_What is that witch doing?' _Amy thought in concern as Umbridge moved away from the front of the Great Hall, a thick, pink cloak magically appearing around her large shoulders, as she exited the Hall, heading towards the grounds.

Amy stood up, debating on whether or not she should follow the witch, when snatches of students' conversations fell upon her ears. Despite the fact that Amy was at the front of the hall, she was still able to catch on or two of the words that were being passed from student to student. "_Hagrid. Returned_." A smile spread across Amy's face as well, but hers was one of glee while Umbridge's could only be one of evil.

Normally, Amy would've gone immediately down to welcome Hagrid back, but as she had predicted earlier, snow had fallen upon Hogwarts, and since Hagrid had only just returned, Amy settled herself back into her seat, telling herself that she would go to visit him the next day. But as Amy finished her meal, something nagged at her, and a feeling of dread settled into Amy's stomach, similar to the snow that was building up outside, cold, heartless, and dark.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Yay? ... YAY! Reviews are welcomed and greatly appreciated!... SUGAR COOKIES!

Signing off,

A-Hyper-Active-Sugar-Cookie-Filled-WiseGirl-Who-Must-Get-Up-For-School-In-Five-Hours-And-Fifty-Five-Minutes-...-YAY-FRIDAYS!


	24. Chapter 23

**AN: **Yay! New chapter! Thanks for the reviews! And don't worry, the suspense should be over soon... hint hint... and no it's not next chapter. Sorry.

**Dedication: **To all the many many people who have birthdays this week!

**Disclaimer: **Unfortunately, I am not hyped up on sugar cookies, so no Percy Jackson today. Devastating, I know, I know. Another unfortunate thing? I don't Harry Potter. Also, devastating.

* * *

><p>The next morning, just before lunch, Amy made her way through several feet of snow to Hagrid's hut, whose windows were glowing warm and cozy with fire. As she made her way down to his home, she passed by many students who were relishing in the childlike feelings that accompanied snow, especially the Weasley twins, who were throwing snowballs at anyone who passed.<p>

"Morning Professor!" They greeted in unison, before nodding at each other and throwing twin snowballs at her. Amy froze in her tracks as the two snowballs hit her in the back of the head, sliding through her hair and down her back. She heard the two seventh years high five each other. Normally, Amy would've turned around and joined in, but visiting Hagrid was probably more important. Plus, she should probably at least try and look like she was a teacher, and not a seventh year who had been held back six years in a row.

Instead, Amy flicked her wand as she continued on her way down the hillside. A smile crossed her face as she heard the sound of several piles of snow crashed into the Twins, who collapsed on impact, being completely covered in the freezing snow. Amy looked behind her briefly to see Fred and George's heads shoot up, as they tried to shake the snow from their hair. Amy grinned widely as they cried out indignantly, stuck underneath the snow.

A few minutes later, Amy found herself at the door of Hagrid's hut, shaking the snow from off her boots and jacket. She made to rap on the door, when the large wooden door burst open, and a disgruntled Hermione Granger stepped out, stopping abruptly when she saw the Charms professor.

"Oh! Professor!" Hermione greeted distractedly. "Great, maybe you can talk some sense into him!"

Amy looked over her shoulder in confusion. "Wait, what?" she questioned, pointing at herself. "You want me to do what?"

"It's Hagrid!" Hermione complained quietly, pulling the teacher away from the hut a little. "Umbridge came to see Hagrid yesterday, after he had just gotten home, and she told him that she was going to be inspecting him at any given time, but Hagrid doesn't see what's wrong with this! He's determined to continue with his normal lesson plans, but Umbridge will consider any of his normal plans dangerous! He doesn't understand that she will use anything to get him sacked. Please, professor, try and talk some sense into him! He thinks that I'm just worrying over nothing, but if you talk to him, he may just listen! Please!" Hermione pleaded earnestly, desperation laced in her words.

Amy put a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Okay, okay," Amy said soothingly. "I will talk to him and do my best to get him to understand what Umbridge's inspection really means. In the meantime, Hermione, you should head back to the castle. I wouldn't say Umbridge is very fond of you, and she may use that against Hagrid, so go back to the castle. You should probably try and help Harry and Ron with their homework, okay?" Hermione nodded, before beginning to trudge back towards the warm castle.

Amy watched her go, before turning back to Hagrid's home. "Hagrid, Hagrid, Hagrid," Amy muttered. "What do we have to do to get you to understand?" Amy raised her hand and knocked on the large door. Almost immediately, Amy heard Fang begin to bark and holler as Hagrid made his way to the door.

Warmth flooded over Amy as Hagrid opened the door, the heat from his fireplace seeping into her body.

"'Ello, professor!" Hagrid cried cheerfully, ushering her inside. "It's bin while since I've seen yeh!"

Amy laughed. "I suppose it has, hasn't it?" she asked happily, removing her coat before sitting down. "I would ask what you've been up to, but that's probably too _large _of a conversation, yes?"

Hagrid snorted. "Bin talkin' to Professor Dumbledore, have yeh?" He held a large hand out to her, a steaming mug cradled within his palm.

"Perhaps," Amy answered slyly, accepting the cup of tea Hagrid offered her.

"Just like 'Arry, Ron, and Hermione, aren't yeh?" Hagrid questioned, taking a sip from his own mug. "Always askin' questions, always puttin' yer nose where it don't belong."

Amy set down her mug, looking past Hagrid's scruffy beard and into his warm eyes. "Speaking of those three," she began, "I ran into Hermione on my way here, and she told me that Umbridge had come to visit you. Hermione also told me that you're not concerned about her inspection of you."

Hagrid waved his bear-like hand dismissively. "Hermione worries 'bout everythin'!" He brushed off. "I told 'er 'gain and 'gain that there's nuthin' to worry 'bout. I mean, just the other day, I was-"

"Hagrid," Amy interrupted. "This is something to worry about. Umbridge is scrutinizing every single detail, about every single teacher. Trelawney is already on probation, because Umbridge thinks that she is a fraud, and I wouldn't be surprised if I were to be put on probation any day now either. Hagrid, this is serious. If you do anything that Umbridge disapproves of, you will get in trouble. The only reason she hasn't put me on probation yet is because she's afraid I'll get the American ambassadors involved, but I know, sooner or later, that I am going to be put on probation. Hagrid, you need to take this seriously."

Amy was 99% sure that her little spiel would get through to Hagrid, but he apparently had an even thicker skull than she had previously thought.

"Yer worry just as much as Hermione and the others!" he chortled. "I promise yeh, professor, I got somethin' great planned for the kids! They're just gonna love it!" Amy sighed, but she knew she had done all that she could. The rest of her visit was spent going over pleasantries, no real conversation passing between the two. It wasn't until Amy was on her way out the door and back to the castle, that Hagrid gave her an important piece of information.

Amy had just stepped out onto the stoop of his door, when Hagrid poked his shaggy head out the door. "By the way, Professor," he began. "When I was speakin' to Professor Dumbledore last night, he mentioned somethin' 'bout wantin' to speak to yeh." He gave a final wave before shutting the door behind him.

Amy stared at the closed door for a moment, before turning on her heel and trudging back through the snow towards the castle. '_Well, that didn't exactly go as I planned,' _Amy thought wearily. '_At least Hagrid and I can be probation buddies.' _Amy rubbed her forehead tiredly as she entered the castle. She brushed the snow off herself, before making her way to Dumbledore's office.

After giving the gargoyle the password (which basically every teacher sans Umbridge knew), Amy mounted the spiraling steps which led to Dumbledore's office. Amy took a moment to collect her thoughts. She wasn't exactly sure why Dumbledore wanted to see her, but she hoped it had something to do with either Hogwarts or the Order. She didn't want to have another conversation about her personal life, it's awkward enough with her parents, and she doesn't want her boss to be involved with it as well.

Amy shook her head wearily before knocking on the wooden door.

"Yes?" Dumbledore's low voice inquired. Amy poked her head around the door. "Professor, what can I do for you?" He asked pleasantly, setting aside a piece of parchment which he had been reading.

"Hagrid said that you wanted to see me, professor," Amy said tentatively, although she wasn't exactly sure why she was hesitant.

"Ah, yes, please come in," Dumbledore insisted, standing to move around his desk. Amy nodded before stepping inside the elegant room. Every time Amy entered his office she was always awed by the little trinkets that littered every surface area. She supposed it was just the teenage girl inside her screaming, "Ohhh! Sparkly!"

Amy shook those distracting thoughts from her mind and seated herself in the high back chair before the Headmaster. She clasped her hands in her laps, looking up at the older man.

"As you know, Hagrid has returned from his mission for the Order," Dumbledore began evenly. "Alas, he was unable to gather any allies with the giants, and we now find ourselves at a disadvantage. However, Hagrid and Madame Maxime were able to provide the Order with some information on Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters.

"It appears that Voldemort has acquired a larger amount of followers than we had first believed. Many of his followers from the First Wizarding War as well as an assortment of new ones, and while this is a disturbing idea, there is also a bright side."

A moment of silence passed between the two. "What do you mean by bright side?" Amy asked curiously.

"We have gathered word of where several of Voldemort's more notorious followers are hiding," Dumbledore answered slowly, picking his words carefully. "The only problem is that we are not entirely sure of its legitimacy, which is where you come in." Dumbledore now looked Amy in the eye. Amy sat up straight, listening attentively. With her complete attention on him, Dumbledore began to pace around his office.

"With the help of two other Order members," he started, "you would scout out the building, keeping out of sight. Our intel tells us that there aren't many followers in the building, but we can't be too careful. When you are positive that the inhabitants of the building are in fact Death Eaters, you will immediately notify the rest of the Order. That way we can continue to keep watch on the Death Eaters and their actions." During this time, Dumbledore had been pacing before Amy, but he now turned to her, looking her in the eye. "Is this clear?"

"Crystal," Amy replied. "But I do have a one question. Why me? Why not someone else in the Order? Why not someone with more experience than me?" Her head tilted naturally in curiosity.

"Ah, well," Dumbledore paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. Amy wondered how difficult that must be; he must have so many. "You're talented, much more talented than many would believe, and you're a leader. Many wouldn't think you are because of your age, but you are surprisingly capable of getting others to do what needs to be done, and you won't take no for an answer. I picked you for this mission, because I believe you are capable of extraordinary things, and you should be given a chance to accomplish these things."

Amy slumped into the back of her chair. '_What?' _she thought in disbelief. '_He's got to be kidding. The greatest wizard of all time thinks that I, _Amy Wyman, _am capable of extraordianary things? Has he lost all of his coco puffs? He must be kidding.' _Amy looked Dumbledore straight in the eye, expecting him to look away or to see his eyes brimming with lies, but neither of those things happened. Instead, he stared back at her, his eyes full of nothing but crystal clear blue truths.

"O-Okay," Amy stuttered. "Okay, yes." She swallowed. "I'll do it."

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Alrighty! Yeah, I know, boring, crappy chapter, but the next chapter should be up soon, and that will be the mission. Yep... I should be updating about two maybe three times this week, because school's gonna be super duper easy, so if you think you're going to have a crappy week (which who could have a crappy week? It's Thanksgiving week!) look forward to these upcoming chapters. Ya'll should be happy about them. Oh, and you know what would make my week pretty freakin' awesome? Some reviews... I never realized how much they brighten up my day until I started writing this story, so... again... hint hint?

Alrighty then...

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	25. Chapter 24

**AN: **Hey ya'll! I hope you all had a great holiday, I know I did! Here's the next chapter! I was able to get it done in bits and pieces, when I wasn't cooking, and I hope you all enjoy! There's a bit of action and the language gets a little adult towards the middelish/end, so caveat lector!

**Dedication: **To Charlie! Happy Birthday!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing!

The rest of November and December flew by, and soon enough the Christmas holidays were upon the Hogwarts population. Every day passed in a flurry, and every day, Amy waited for a message from Dumbledore. She wasn't sure when he would send her into the field but she had to be prepared, and yet it wasn't until the last day of term that Dumbledore approached the young teacher.

She had just dismissed her last class of holiday excited students when the wizard had casually strolled into her classroom, clearing his voice to catch her attention. Amy straightened up from her desk, which she had been slumped against in exhaustion mere moments ago, standing to face the headmaster.

Silence filled the room for a moment, before Dumbledore nodded once. "It's time," he stated simply. "You are to meet in my office at curfew; we will discuss the mission then." Without waiting for any reply, Dumbledore turned on his heel exiting the room with the faintest swirl of his cloak.

Amy blinked a few times, trying to reason out what had just happened. "Okay then," she whispered to herself.

…..

Amy waited for it to be five minutes until nine before she exited her room, grabbing a heavy jacket that she had "borrowed" from her brother Rich. She tugged it on over her shoulders, before sneaking through the halls towards Dumbledore's office. As a teacher, she didn't necessarily have to sneak through the halls, but she didn't want to risk Umbridge seeing her.

As she snuck down the hall, Amy heard footsteps coming towards her, and she pressed herself into the shadows of the wall. When the steps drew closer, Amy held her breath, praying to God that she wasn't caught. Luck seemed to be with her in those few minutes for the footsteps passed her without hesitation. It wasn't until the echoing was far down the hall, that Amy looked out from her nook in the wall to see who had passed her. It wasn't entirely surprising to see Cho Chang rounding the corner, and for the first time in months, Amy saw a smile across the sixth year's face.

Amy furrowed her brow in thought, but she shook it off before continuing on her way, although much quieter now, towards Dumbledore's office.

As Amy made her way up the steps to meet Dumbledore, she zipped her coat up, before pulling her hair out of the collar. The heels of her leather boots clicked against the stone steps as she approached the door to Dumbledore's office. She was dressed for warmth, but she was also dressed for a fight; leather boots, a jacket that enabled movement, jeans, her wand in her back pocket (screw Moody and his elementary wand safety); Amy was ready for whatever the night threw at her, although she did hope that nothing would go wrong and that all she would be doing was watching a boring house.

Amy took a deep breath before knocking on the solid door. Not even a moment had passed before Dumbledore's commanding voice reverberated through the door, granting her entrance.

Dumbledore's office was bathed in a warm orange glow from the fireplace, and Fawkes, Dumbledore's faithful phoenix, was singing softly to itself. Dumbledore looked up from his desk, clasping his hands together. "Good evening, professor," he said quietly, gesturing for her to enter the room, which she did quickly, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Instead of taking a seat like she normally would do, Amy stood behind one of the high-back chairs, her fingers caught in the belt loops of her jeans, and she rocked gently on her heels. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at her before sighing.

"I see that you are anxious to start," he said, breaking the silence, "so let's begin." He rose from his desk, coming to stand before Amy. "You are to Apparate straight to the destination of this building, where you will meet with the two other members of your team, Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin. From there, you will watch the building for any sign of known or suspected Death Eaters. You'll return to Hogwarts at two in the morning, after you've been relieved, or if any problems arise."

Amy squinted her eyes. "Problems, professor?" Amy questioned hesitantly. "Are we expecting problems?"

Dumbledore gave a tired chuckle. "One can never be too careful," he replied simply, signaling the end of the conversation. Amy nodded slowly, before stepping into the middle of the room. "Good luck, Amy."

Amy smiled slightly. "Thank you, professor." With a turn she was gone, Disapparating with a pop, as she was pulled away, her vision warping and spinning with colors that spun contracted around her. Blues, yellows, purples, blacks, reds… Weasley red, or more specifically Charlie Weasley red …. Amy squeezed her eyes shut, burying the feelings of sadness and angst that built up in her stomach as she landed on the dark, cold ground behind bushes that offered her a shadowy sanctuary.

Quickly, Amy knelt in the shadows, pulling her hood over her hair to further camouflage herself. The wind whistled through the trees, the clouds covering up the little bit of moon that shone in the night sky, the stars dim and lifeless. Amy let out a shuddering breath, desperately trying to push the nerves from her mind and body.

As she started to focus, two pops filled the night air, two forms shifting into shape in the night. Amy reflexively reached for her wand, before stopping herself as her eyes adjusted to the dark.

"Tonks? Remus?" Amy whispered. The two straightened drawing their own wands.

"Who's there?" Remus whispered hoarsely. Amy squinted and saw the shadows and scratches that adorned his face, remembering that the full moon had taken place several days earlier. As Amy stood slowly, the two Order members whipped around to face her.

"Hey guys," she said weakly, glancing at their wands that were pointed at her menacingly.

"Amy!" Tonks cried, wincing when she was immediately shushed by the others. "Sorry," she whispered, lowering her wand, closely followed by Remus was did the same. Amy smiled as the young Auror threw an arm around her, pulling her into a hug.

"Okay, okay," Remus whispered, kneeling next the bushes. "We can do all that later, but right now, both of you get down, and pay attention." When Remus turned to face the small building, Tonks stuck her tongue out at him, sending Amy into a fit of giggles, before stopping at the admonishing look Lupin gave her. Tonks and Amy glanced at each other before kneeling on either side of Remus to watch the house.

At first, the trio were attentive, watching the house cautiously, their eyes never wavering, but when an hour had passed, and then two, with no sign of movement besides the waving of the bare trees, they began to grow weary, and weariness is so often accompanied by some form of sloppiness.

Amy rubbed a hand over her eyes tiredly, as Tonks yawned loudly. Remus merely rolled his eyes, before focusing on the house again. Amy rolled her shoulders, trying to relieve the tension in her shoulders when she heard a snap from behind her, like someone stepping on a twig. She whipped around, staring into the shadows of the trees.

"Did you just hear something?" she whispered, her body tensing. She could've sworn she had seen movement in the shadows.

"You're just imagining things, Amy," Tonks groaned, the color of her hair flitting between bright pink and an exhausted blue.

"Remus," Amy mutter, poking him in the side, still staring into the trees.

"Trying to focus here," he grunted agitatedly. Amy spared him a glare, before movement caught the corner of her eye.

The shadows from some of the trees raised their arms, long, thin branches held out aloft. '_Trees don't have arms…_'

"MOVE!" Amy cried, shoving the other two out of the way as multiple blasts of red shot through the sky, setting the bush the three had been hiding in aflame. Tonks and Remus crashed into each other as they missed the spell by mere moments. Amy rolled to her feet, drawing her wand immediately as the others also got up.

"What just happened?" Lupin rasped, pulling his wand out along with Tonks, whose hair had turned to a deep red. The flickering flames lashed out from the bushes, eating at the sky, but the trio took no notice as they stared out into the shadows, waiting for someone to move.

"What else could it be?" Amy questioned lowly, raising her wand as the wind blew through the trees.

"Death Eaters," Tonks muttered. A moment of silence passed between them, the flames the only sound in the night, until a crack echoed through the air, and the ground before the Order members exploded. They scattered away hurriedly as snow and earth through everywhere, coating them, as tall shadows moved out from the trees towards them, wands drawn. There was no time for them to do anything before the Death Eaters were upon them, spells flying everywhere.

Amy jumped up, adrenaline pumping through her as two of the shadows advanced upon her. She could see evil grins spread across their faces. She backed away, before stopping and holding her ground, her wand raised. From the corner of her eye, she saw Remus and Tonks fighting against their own pairs of Death Eaters. One of the men stepped out of the shadows, the glow of the flames lighting his cruel face. His eyes traveled down her figure, taking in the Muggle clothing, his eyes lighting up in excitement.

"Would you look at this, Avery?" He rasped. "We've got ourselves one of Dumbledore's Mudbloods to play with." His companion, Avery, stepped out of the shadows, joining his fellow Death Eater, an identical sneer across his face.

"Would appear so, Nott," he said hoarsely, his eyes flashing with possibilities. "Suppose she could be fun." Anger coursed through Amy's veins, and sparks shot from her wand, catching Avery's sleeve and setting it aflame. He roared furiously, batting it out with his hand. Once it was finally out and his forearm covered in burns, Avery glared at her.

"Does the Mudblood want to play?" he snarled, his voice dripping with menace, as he drew his wand, Nott mimicking his actions. "Fine, let's play." In an instant, colors shot from the Death Eaters wands, barely missing Amy as she shot away, moving towards the forest behind the house, from where the Death Eaters had been hiding.

'_I can lose them if I get into the trees,' _Amy thought hurriedly, throwing a spell over her shoulder that sent the fallen dead leaves flying at the men chasing her. _'If I can get into the trees, then they won't be able to see me as well.' _They swore as the leaves rushed at them, but they never faltered in their chase, sending spells again and again at Amy, colors flying past her as she ran for the trees, sending spells over her shoulder continuously.

She was doing pretty well, and had just entered the forest, when a horrible burning sensation began to spread through Amy's torso. She cried out, grabbing at her now bleeding side, which had been hit by one of the Death Eater's curses. She stumbled, tripping over roots and vines in the forest, until she fell against the cold, hard ground, her wand flying out of her hand, landing in a pile of new snow.

She let out a sharp cry as something dug into her stomach, cutting into her even more and from behind her, Amy heard Nott and Avery come to a screeching halt, sending snow and dirt flying, as Amy flipped onto her back, grasping for her wand. The hand that was stopping the flow of blood pressed deeper into her side when she realized that her wand lay several feet from her grasping bruised and cut hand.

"What are you going to do now?" Nott taunted her, as he and Avery circled her, kicking snow and dirt onto her bruised form. "You've got nowhere to run, Mudblood." The two men laughed cruelly, as Amy kept a firm hand on her side, trying to stop the blood from flowing into the snow. She squirmed, trying to keep them in her darkening eyesight as more and more blood was soaked into the snow around her.

Avery squatted next to Amy, reaching a gnarled hand out to touch her face. She flinched away from him, but he took no notice as he stroked her face. "It's too bad that you're a Mudblood, princess," he muttered, leaning down to put his face into her hair, inhaling deeply. Amy cringed at his closeness. "You could've been fun to play with. Alone." He pulled back, grinning at her darkly. "But who knows? Maybe there will be some of you left after the Dark Lord is through with you." He laughed evilly, and Amy felt courage building in her. Unfortunately for her, when she gets courageous, she also gets stupid.

She spit in his face. That right there was probably one of the stupidest things she had every done in her life, although, if she was going to die, it was probably totally worth it.

Avery froze mid-laugh, and something about the look on his face made Amy's insides turn cold. Nott swore, glaring at the witch, and silence fell between them. Amy could hear the sounds of a fight back where Tonks and Remus were, and she desperately hoped they would escape, because it didn't look like she would be leaving that forest. Avery wiped the spit away from his face with the back of his hand, straightening up, to glare down at the witch, whose chest was rising quickly with fear.

"Fine," Avery rasped, raising his wand in unison with Nott. "You want to play like that, bitch, let's see how you like it." Amy swallowed with nervousness, knowing deep down what was about to come.

"_CRUCIO!" _The Death Eaters' voices were cut off as Amy began to scream, as the force of the two spells, mercilessly ripped through her, tearing her insides apart before putting them back together and repeating the cycle. Along with the ripping of her internal organs, it felt as though someone was banging a hammer within her skull, begging to be released, while simultaneously, someone dug a heated knife into her. Amy clutched at her torso, screaming, begging for the pain to end.

Minutes that felt like hours passed, and yet the Death Eaters didn't cease in the power of their curse.

'_Oh, please, dear God!' _Amy screamed mentally, as the tearing, pounding, and cutting within her continued. Amy tried to calm herself, willing herself to break through the curse. '_Think Amy! Think of something that will get you the hell out of here!" _Immediately, images of her family, her mom and dad, Rose, Rich, and Eric, flashed within her mind, their voices, again and again, saying, "Stop being stupid! Get up and fight! Stop being stupid! Get up and fight!" Their voices were soon joined by Georgie's, Michelle's, and Katherine's. The pain began to dissipate, as Amy squirmed, her hand stretching towards her wand.

'_Just a little more,' _she thought desperately, her eyes straining to stay open through the pain, but Avery and Nott, noticing that her squirming had calmed slightly, added a little more force behind the spell, and her family and friend's voices began to fade, the pain mounting again. Amy thrashed widely, hitting her arms against the trees, bruising and cutting them. She continued to shake until her head was bashed against a rock, and pain soared through her. Amy stopped trying to reach her wand, falling limp and slave to the curse. She lay like that, enduring the pain that these two monsters were thrusting upon her with no mercy, until a voice began to whisper inside her head.

"Amy," the voice whispered. "Amy, please." Amy's eyes opened precariously, and she reached madly for her wand, which was now inches away from her fingertips. As the voice continued to whisper through her mind, a face began to bloom behind her eyelids. A strong jaw, freckles, bright blue eyes, red hair…

Amy's eyes shot opened, his name tumbling from her lips in an almost silent cry. "Charlie." Amy concentrated desperately on his face which grew clearer as his voice grew louder.

"I kissed you."

"Let me make it up to you."

"A very good thing."

"Care to dance?"

"Good night then, _Amy._"

Pain shot through Amy's body, and this time not from the curse. Tears filled her eyes as all the feelings that she had been burying away flooded through her. The pain, the anger, the love, any and every emotion that she had felt since she had last seen Charlie surged through her.

'_It can't end this way,' _Amy thought painfully. '_I-I have to get out of this. I am _going _to get out of here, and when I do, I'm going to find him. I need to find him. I will find him.' _ These thoughts sent a rush of strength through Amy, and her straining fingers finally wrapped around the handle of her wand.

Through the excruciating pain, Amy whipped her wand around to face the Death Eaters, a spell already leaving her mouth. "_FLIPENDO!" _Immediately, the ripping within her body ceased as the Death Eaters were flipped backwards and thrown into the trees.

Amy sat up weakly, gasping as air entered her lungs, her body screaming from the pain that she had endured for several minutes. Through the pain, Amy pulled herself to her feet, holding on tightly to the tree that she had been pushed up against moments ago. Carefully, Amy walked wearily towards the two men, who were unconscious against the trees which they had just been thrown against.

Amy flicked her wand weakly, ropes twisting and turning to wrap around Avery and Nott. She weakly kicked a pile of dirt at them. "It's the least I can do," Amy whispered bleakly, before stumbling away from the forest.

As she neared the edge of the tree line, Amy hesitated for a moment, keeping her arm drawn so as to defend herself if needed, but only two figures remained in the glow of the burning bush. Amy was tentative about stepping from the forest; she wasn't strong enough to fight against two Death Eaters, but to her relief, the flames lit up the tired faces of Tonks and Remus rather than the angry faces of their opponents.

"Amy!" Tonks cried, catching sight of the witch who had removed herself from the trees. The Auror ran towards Amy, throwing her arms around her friend. "We were so worried!" Amy just nodded tiredly, before pulling away.

"What happened to the Death Eaters?" she groaned as Remus approached them, wearily accounting for their injuries.

"Disapparated," Lupin said, rubbing at his forehead with a bruised hand. He took in her bruised and battered form. "What happened to you?"

"Cr- Cruciatus Curse," Amy said weakly, wincing as pain shot through her still bleeding side. Remus and Tonks swore in unison, sharing a quick look, before Lupin began work on Amy's side. Tonks continued talking to the other witch, as Remus used a number of spells to clean up her side, but Amy wasn't really listening to her friend as the dizziness began to fade from her mind, wincing whenever Lupin prodded at a particularly sensitive part of her torn torso. It wasn't until Remus had stepped away that Amy actually heard what Tonks was saying to her.

"Wait, what happened to the two you were fighting?" the Auror questioned, poking her friend gently in the arm. Amy paused for a moment staring at her in confusion, before she realized that had left two extremely dangerous wizards, by themselves, with their wands, in the middle of the woods. With a groan, Amy took off back into the forest, despite the jellylike feeling in her legs, Remus and Tonks following behind her.

It wasn't long before Amy came upon the sight where her torture had taken place, but the clearing was empty aside from the tattered remains of some rope.

"Shit," Amy swore, shaking her head. From the corner of her eye, Amy saw the snow which was now red from her blood. Her stomach clenched at the sight as she realized that she really could have died. Totally, straight out died, and no one probably would have cared. Her parents and siblings, sure. Michelle, Katherine, and Georgie of course, but if she had died, she would have left nothing behind for anyone to remember her. She hadn't really done anything; Dumbledore trusted that she would lead this mission with no qualms, and here she was, bruised, bloodied, and beaten after being attacked by damn Death Eaters, the same Death Eaters that she was supposed to be watching. What a simply _great _leader she turned out to be. "Goddammit," she whispered, turning to face her companions. "They're gone. Just… fucking gone."

Remus and Tonks once again exchanged glances, before turning back to the upset witch. Tonks took a step forward, looking hesitantly at the pool of blood that had been soaked into the snow. "Come on, Amy," she said lightly. "We should get out of here." Amy caught Tonks's eye before nodding. She spared one last look at the bloodied snow, remembering every single action, every single thought, and the promise she had made to herself in the brief moments when she had feared for her life.

"Let's go," she agreed after a moment of silence. "We need to talk to Dumbledore."

'_And afterwards,' _Amy thought, as the trio turned on their heel, Apparting away. '_I know what I need to do.'_

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Hope you guys enjoyed it! Don't forget the reviews! I really appreciate/love them!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	26. Chapter 25

**AN: **Next chapter! Yay! Hope you guys had a great holiday full of food and family! I know I'm probably not going to be able to eat for a loooonnnnggg time!

**Dedication: **To Caroline, Michelle (Different Michelle than in the story :-D), and my mom! Happy early birthdays!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing!

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><p>Amy shut the door behind Remus and Tonks, waiting to hear them Disapparate, before leaning heavily against the wooden door, now facing the headmaster, who was seated calmly at his desk, his fingers forming a temple.<p>

Warmth had flooded through Amy's body as she trudged through the doorway to Dumbledore's office. Mud and blood that was caked on her skin was drying, leaving her body rigid and tense, and her clothing was torn and stained beyond repair.

"Well," he started. "I have the water down version of what happened, I am sure. So what exactly happened?" Amy took a deep breath.

"Exactly that. We were ambushed," She began, focusing on the corner of his desk, as she played with the fraying ends on the hem of her shirt. "A couple of hours had passed, and we were getting a little antsy when Avery, Gibbon, Nott, the Carrows, and Pettigrew attacked. We weren't expecting it." Amy shook her head. "Can't believe we were so stupid," she muttered angrily.

"You weren't being stupid," Dumbledore broke in tranquilly. Amy looked up hesitantly. "There was no reason to suspect that anyone other than you, Nymphadora, and Remus knew about the mission. You were all lucky enough to escape with as few injuries as you did. You were fighting two against one, and all of you were lucky to escape with your lives. Voldemort's followers are ruthless, especially if they believe that they will be rewarded by their master, which they would have been. An Auror with a "blood-traitor" mother, a werewolf, and a Muggleborn teacher would have brought them great rewards. The fact that the three of you are Order members just adds to the bounty."

Amy nodded in agreement, although on the inside she was cringing, remember the way that Avery had acted towards her, taunting and teasing her, after he had realized she was Muggleborn. She could almost feel his breath across her face, and then suddenly, the sourness turned to sweetness, and it was Charlie whose face was near hers, leaning closer and closer towards her. Amy was pulled from her mind as Dumbledore cleared his throat, snapping her to attention.

His eyes were twinkling in the darkness of his office. "Pleasant thoughts?" he inquired lightly. Amy blushed, thankful for the dimness of the fireplace.

"Headmaster," Amy began carefully. "I was wondering if-" She broke off as a flame illuminated the room leaving in its wake a single feather. A moment passed between them as Dumbledore sighed, picking up the feather.

"And that would be Fawkes, which means," he said softly, twirling the feather between his index finger and thumb, "that Dolores should be at the staircase right about-" loud shouting filled the room, as someone, apparently Umbridge, demanded entrance to the revolving staircase. "Now."

Amy laughed quietly. "What exactly is she doing?" Amy asked, looking at the wooden door behind her.

"She is demanding entrance, because she wishes to know why there were students out and about after curfew," Dumbledore answered simply. Amy froze. '_Wait, what? Does Dumbledore know about these meetings that Harry's been holding?' _

"W-What students?" Amy asked nonchalantly, praying that he mistook her stammering for exhaustion and not because she knew all about these little 'illegal' meetings that Harry and the others had been having.

Dumbledore peered at her from over his half-moon glasses as though he knew she was hiding something, but instead he said something that surprised her. "Harry Potter had a dream of sorts, a dream too real and too vivid to simply brush aside, as most dreams are. He dreamed that Arthur Weasley had been attacked in the Ministry, and after I had been informed of this, I sent Mr. Potter and the Weasleys to Grimmuald Place, because Harry's dream was in fact reality." Amy's heart skipped a beat.

"What do you mean his dream was reality?" Amy asked, fear creeping through her body. Amy had spent several months in Grimmuald place, avoiding Charlie and his mother, but she had found solace with the Weasley father, who was fascinated by the simple Muggle devices of her childhood, and who Amy had come to think of almost as a second father.

Dumbledore's shoulders sagged slightly, exhaustion crossing over his face. "Arthur was on guard duty tonight at the Ministry when Voldemort sent in Nagini, his snake. Apparently, Arthur and Nagini were unfortunate enough to be surveying the same room, and Nagini attacked Arthur. Luckily, Harry warned us in time, and we were able to get him out of there and into St. Mungo's."

"So, he's going to be alright?" Amy questioned, looking up with hopeful eyes. Dumbledore's shoulders sagged even more, and Amy's heart dropped. "He is, isn't he?"

"In all fairness, Miss Wyman, I am not entirely sure," Dumbledore admitted, shrugging. "With all that has happened tonight, I have been unable to leave the castle, but with the holidays upon us, I am sure I shall be able to find time to inquire more on his recovery." Amy smiled softly.

"Right," she said quietly. "Of course." An awkward silence feel between the two as Amy rocked on her heels. "I-I guess I should be heading back to my room. Night." Amy backed up a few steps, before the shouts from below reminded her that Umbridge was still there. "Uh," Amy backtracked, "Is there another exit?"

Dumbledore looked at her calculatedly, surveying her actions. 'You may use the Floo system to get back to your room." Amy smiled her thanks stepping towards the fireplace, but was stop as Dumbledore continued speaking. "Or you could finish your inquiry from earlier." Amy turned back to face the wizard, a questioning look on her face. "Before we were interrupted by the arrival of Fawkes's warning? Something brought on by pleasant thoughts?"

Amy flushed brightly. "Oh, um, that," she stammered. "I, um, actually…" Amy trailed off nervously. She bit her lip as Dumbledore continued to survey her. A moment passed between the two teachers, before Dumbledore crossed the room to his desk, pulling out a piece of parchment and quill and scribbling something down. He handed the note to Amy, her hand shaking slightly, with a smile.

"I think this will answer all of your questions," the wizard supplied lightly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go and quiet Dolores down before she awakes the castle and everyone within its walls." He bowed slightly, before exiting the room, leaving Amy alone to examine the parchment in her hands.

_43 St. John's Street Apartment 13, London, England_

A heat built up inside Amy, as she realized what she was about to do. And then she realized, that she really was about to do this. A grin spread across her face as she memorized the words on the parchment. '_43 St. John's Street Apartment 13, London, England. 43 St. John's Street Apartment 13, London, England.' _With one last glance, Amy turned on her heel, Apparating out of the warmth of Dumbledore's office and into the cold of the streets of London.

Amy opened her eyes, taking in the apartment building before her. Snow swirled around in the wind, twisting and turning around her, and she shivered. She looked down at her torn clothes, realizing that she was really there. She was actually standing outside Charlie Weasley's apartment, and that in a few moments… she could almost see, almost feel what she was about to do.

Glancing around to make sure that the streets were empty, Amy pulled her wand out, unlocking the door in seconds, before she entered the apartment building, looking over her shoulder once more, before she ascended the flight of carpeted steps before her. She bounded up the steps, flight after flight until she finally reached the door marked 13.

She stood in front of his door, drenched in the melted, cold snow and dried blood. Her hair was plastered to her face, blood mixed in with her hair, and she was shivering beneath her torn shirt and jeans. Her breath was coming out in short small puffs, as she raised a bruised hand, knocking soundly on his door.

Shivering, despite the warmth of the building, Amy could hear movement from the other side of the door. '_Dear God, I hope this is the right place,' _Amy thought desperately, wrapping her arms around herself. These thoughts were pushed from her mind as the door opened, revealing a half-asleep Charlie. Through blurred vision, Charlie looked out into the snowy darkness, his eyes landing on the frozen and bruised girl.

"What are you doing here?" he asked bitterly, before catching onto the state of her being. He started forward slightly. "Amy, what happened t-" he began concernedly, being cut off as Amy threw herself at him, her tired arms wrapping around his neck as she pressed her frozen lips to his. He stood still for a moment before his sleeping brain realized what exactly was happening and he deepened the kiss, his arms winding around her waist, pulling her cold, bruised body against his warm one.

She pulled away, her arms unraveling from around his neck, as she rested her forehead against his. "I'm tired of running," she whispered, her eyes bright with tears. "I-I'm sorry. I should have realized sooner, but -" It was Charlie who interrupted this time, silencing her ramblings with a passionate kiss.

"Shut up, Amy," he whispered, pulling away momentarily, before embracing her again.

Amy groaned as the warmth of his body burned against the cold of hers. One of her hands wound itself into his mussed up hair, gripping it tightly as their lips moved passionately against each other's. His arms tightened around her, lifting her slightly off the ground as he kissed her, and she giggled softly against his mouth.

He pulled back for a moment, his arms never moving from around her. "Amy," he whispered.

Amy's eyes searched his. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do this," she murmured. He smirked, resting his forehead gently against hers.

"I do actually," he breathed. They smiled softly at each other before pressing his lips back onto hers. She embraced him, her fingers running through his hair. He turned, never breaking from her lips, pushing her against the wall. She gasped into his mouth, allowing his tongue to enter her mouth, exploring its contours.

One of his hands moved from her waist, gripping her cut up face in his hands, his fingertips caressing the soft, bloodied skin. Amy pushed herself off of the wall, her hands now gripping the front of his t-shirt, pulling at it. As they moved from the hall, Charlie kicked the door closed with his foot, kissing Amy the entire time.

She giggled as the two stumbled over a table in the dark, but they still never broke away. Charlie let out a soft groan as the back of his legs hit the couch. He fell backwards, letting out an "oomph" as Amy tumbled into his lap. They pulled back for a moment, gulping down air, before they reconnected.

Amy's hands moved under Charlie's shirt, pushing it up as her frozen fingers ran across the muscles of his chest. He groaned again, his hands low on her waist, rubbing into her frigid skin, skin that was covered in dried mud and blood from the harsh evening, skin that was still cold despite everything that had happened in the last few minutes.

The incessant kissing began to slow; the lateness of the hour began to wear down on them. They broke apart, Charlie kissing her lips again once more, softly and soothingly, before pulling back, their foreheads touching slightly.

"What," he started breathily, "possessed you to do that?" A small grin passed over Amy's face.

"It should've happened a long time ago," she whispered back. "I should have stopped running a long time ago." He grinned tiredly, leaning back onto the cushions, Amy slipping lower onto the couch, until she was pressed against the back of the couch, her head lying on Charlie's chest, and his arm looped around her shoulder.

"I should have too," he murmured back.

They fell into silence, listening to the sound of their breathing, content to just lie there, as Charlie's hand gently ran up and down Amy's side, taking in the extent of her injuries.

"Amy," Charlie began softly. "What happened to you tonight?" Amy took a moment to respond.

"I went on a mission," she whispered to him, not wanting to break the comfort of their content silence. "We were attacked, and I realized that I didn't want to wait to be with you anymore. I didn't want to run anymore"

Charlie smiled in the darkness, pressing a soft kiss against Amy's dirty hair. "I'm glad," he whispered back, squeezing her closer to him. "I didn't want to wait to be with you either. I'm tired of running." Amy stretched her head to look at him, moving her lips onto his for a gentle kiss. She pulled away after a few moments, moving her head back onto his chest.

"I heard about your dad," Amy whispered several minutes into the silence that had fallen. Charlie tensed slightly. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah," he whispered back, "he's going to be fine." Amy nodded against his chest, shivering slightly. He squeezed her shoulder tightly.

"You cold?" he asked quietly. Amy shivered in response. He shrugged a little, pulling her from her spot against the couch and onto his chest, wrapping his arms soundly around her. Her head nestled into the crook of his neck and she sighed, her breath tickling the delicate skin.

As their eyes continued to grow heavy, and sleep fell upon them, Charlie placed a gentle kiss on her head, savoring the sweet smell of her shampoo as they fell asleep in each other's arms, finally done running.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>So, there you go! It only took them 25 chapters! :-D Hope you guys liked it! If it seems like it may not flow or whatever, it's because I wrote the Charlie/Amy scene back in August, and then just added the beginning so it would make sense... Next chapter should be up sometime this week!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	27. Chapter 26

**AN: **Despite the obvious crappyness of this chapter, I felt I should at least upload _something_, especially since my English grade has dropped considerably because I've been writing this in class rather than paying attention to what I'm supposed to be doing (I'm sorry, but I just don't find _Oliver Twist_ to be entertaining at all. My friends are all like, "Listen to it on tape! That way you can multi-task!" In theory, it's a good idea, but in reality, I fall asleep so easily. Sorry Dickens, but I could care less about how you use satire to criticize Victorian England. I'm going to have to write about that over break anyway, so let's try and postpone it for as long as possible, kay?) Sorry about the rant, but I really do hate _Oliver Twist. _Anyway, here is the next crappy chapter, sorry for it's lateness, but be happy you're getting anything.

**Dedication: **To my wonderful best friend, Georgie, who had her birthday a week or so ago, happy birthday and thanks for all the wonderful memories!

**Disclaimer: **I obviously do not want a lump of coal the size of a battle in court with J.K. Rowling, so... No, I do not own Harry Potter.

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><p>Sunlight streamed through the window, casting itself over Amy's sleeping form. Amy squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to fall back to sleep, but the damage was done; she was awake and awake much too early for someone who was on holiday. Wearily, Amy cracked her eyes open, taking in her surroundings. Couch, chair, table, bookshelf, windows. Her apartment.<p>

'_Right,' _Amy thought sadly. '_It was all a dream. Of course.' _ Amy groaned to herself as she sat up, wincing with every movement. Her side burned as she pushed herself into a sitting position, and she took a moment to catalogue all of her injuries. Yellowing and purple bruises, cuts that were just beginning to heal, a very large, bruised and sore torso, a slash under her hairline, and various other wounds across her body.

"Well," Amy muttered, rubbing her forehead tiredly. "I'm certainly one very large mess, aren't I?"

"Well," a deep voice broke in smoothly. "You're a very pretty mess." Amy jumped, wincing as her muscles jerked rapidly. She turned around to see Charlie wearing jeans, _only _jeans. She just about passed out, but she restrained herself, swallowing nervously.

"Oh, yeah?" Amy asked breathlessly. "Is that what you think?" He moved around the couch to sit next to her. Amy searched his eyes as he sat close to her, _very close, _to her, leaning in close, _very close_, to her face, his breath brushing softly against her cheek.

"Yes, it is," he whispered, before kissing her gently. Amy allowed her eyes to flutter shut, as she pressed herself into the kiss, glad for more. Charlie, however, had different ideas. He pulled away after a few moments, leaving Amy groaning in disappointment. She opened her eyes to see Charlie standing, holding a hand out to help her up. "Breakfast?"

Amy stared at his hand for a moment, before narrowing her eyes slightly, her mouth quirking up at the sides and taking his hand. He pulled her up, and almost immediately, Amy's knees buckled from the weight on her bruised and sore legs. She let out a hiss as Charlie wrapped an arm around her waist, preventing her from collapsing, as he helped her to one of the stools at the kitchen island.

"Are you sure you are alright?" Charlie asked worriedly, as he basically seated her on her stool.

"Oh, you know," Amy said, pushing his hands away dismissively. "Bumps and bruises."

Charlie raised an eyebrow before moving to the other side of the island. "Amy," he started slowly, as though she were a small child. "I grew up with five younger siblings, all of whom were stupid at one point and therefore did stupid things. I've seen my fair share of bumps and bruises, and I can assure you that your injuries are _not _bumps and bruises." Charlie turned to face the stove, where already, almost magically, a pot of something was bubbling. He glanced over his shoulder. "So, do you want to tell me how you're really feeling?"

Amy smirked a little as she pushed herself out of her chair, willing herself not to wince as her aching bones and muscles protested. She rounded the table, coming to stand behind Charlie.

"How am I really feeling?" she began, wrapping her arms around Charlie's bare torso, pressing a light kiss to his shoulder, smiling as he shivered. "Well, I am very happy because I happen to be standing in a kitchen with a very handsome man, who happens to have no shirt on, which may I add, is not helping me focus at all, but I am also kind of grumpy because said man is being stupid, and I wish he would stop worrying over little things and just kiss me again."

Charlie chuckled as he turned around. He cupped Amy's face in his hands, leaning down to her lips. "Well, as your boyfriend, I guess I should do something to stop those grumpies, right?" Amy's eyes shot open as he pressed his lips to her, much less gently than before. _'Boyfriend?'_

Before the two got too distracted, she pulled away quickly, her hand touching her lips gently. She raised her eyes to meet his, feeling her weak resolve begin to crumble at the happy look behind his eyes.

"Boyfriend?" Amy asked, searching his clear, blue eyes. The light behind Charlie's eyes dimmed slightly, and he looked nervous all of a sudden. He pulled back slightly, although his arms were still looped loosely around her waist, and Amy's fingers were twisted in the belt loops of his jeans, restraining him from pulling away from her completely, desperate to finally feel his warm (much warmer) body against hers.

Amy stared Charlie in the eye, forcing him into answering her unasked question that was clearly shining in her greenish eyes, asking him to tell her what he was thinking; wanting to savor his voice after the silence the two had endured for what seemed like months.

Charlie, however, seemed to be just as stubborn as the witch and was finally able to break away from Amy's stare, but not able to break from her grasp (she was much stronger than she looked in her wiry, petite stature).

Amy narrowed her eyes, as Charlie determinedly looked away from her.

"Charlie," Amy said forcefully, noticing the flicker of Charlie's eyes towards her. She sighed. "Charlie," Amy said, much more softly, willing him to look at her, her voice practically begging for him to look at her.

It worked for the moment his eyes connected with hers, his shoulders sagged with defeat, and for the first time, since Amy had met him, more than a year ago, Charlie blushed. Amy's eyes widened curiously as red spread up from his chest, across her neck, which flushed across his face. Although his blush was not as bright as that of his red signature Weasley hair, his freckles, however, seemed to disappear in his red face, and his muscled chest also turned red, spreading down his bare chest and muscles…

Amy shook herself from these thoughts, forcing herself to focus on Charlie, who, it seemed, was finally ready to speak to her, his apparent 'girlfriend'.

"I suppose," he broke off, thinking intently for a moment. "It's just… I've never really felt this way," he finally admitted softly. "About anyone. The past few months… it's been…. It's been… dammit… I cannot think of the word." Charlie said in frustration, now pulling himself from Amy's grasp to face the stove, roughly jabbing at the slightly overdone breakfast.

Amy stared at his slumped shoulders, her heart going out to him, as she allowed herself to feel the pain that she had been feeling for some time, ever since Hogsmeade, feelings which she believed to be identical to the ones Charlie had been feeling as well, ones that he could not express.

"It's been like having your heart torn apart, into smaller and smaller pieces," Amy said quietly. Charlie softened in his movements, listening as Amy slid behind him, moving quietly so as not to break the sweet morning quiet.

Amy cast her eyes over his back from freckle to freckle, connecting the spots with her fingertips, reveling as he shivered, goose bumps spreading across the top of his body. "All we could feel were our hearts breaking and now…" Charlie turned his head slightly as she trailed off, and the profile that Amy saw pumped courage back into her. "Now, it feels as though our hearts were never broken… as though… well as though everything that has happened was meant to happen just so we could get to this point. This point of finally feeling-"

"Complete," Charlie finished, turning around to face Amy who stared up at him, a smile tugging at her lips. "You make me feel complete and whole, and I don't care how cliché that sounds. I'll tell the entire world, Wizarding and Muggle, that you, Amy Wyman, make me feel complete." His voice trailed down until it was a whisper, and the only reason that Amy could hear him was because he was leaning down, his lips brushing the outside of her ear, her hand resting on his chest, shivering from the feel of his breath against the sensitive skin of her neck.

"How about instead of telling everyone," Amy said, raising her eyebrows slightly. "You kiss me instead." Charlie playfully tapped his chin in pretend thought.

"I guess I could handle that," Charlie said, leaning down to kiss her as her eyes fluttered down. Together, the two moaned as their lips met, rejoicing in the feeling of perfection that raced through their bodies, warming them to the tips of the fingers, butterflies fluttering madly throughout them. Amy allowed her arms to wind themselves around Charlie's neck, playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck, as Charlie wrapped his arms around the witch's waist, his warm fingers digging into her sensitive skin, where the healing wound from the night before lay.

As his fingers pressed a little too firmly into her, Amy pulled away, hissing in pain, and she gingerly massaged her sore side. Charlie's eyes narrowed in concern, his arms automatically pulling away from her, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Charlie looked down, before kneeling down between them, his fingers toying with the hem of her tattered shirt, his eyes asking for permission before pulling her shirt up, examining her side.

Amy watched the muscles in Charlie's jaw clench as his fingers skimmed tenderly over her flawed skin. An angry red crept up Charlie's neck and back as he outlined the blemished skin, sending shivers through her body. He splayed his hand briefly over her side, before pulling her shirt down as he stood up. Amy's eyes tracked across his face which still stared at her side.

Hesitantly, Amy caught Charlie's chin, bringing his eyes up to meet hers, a shiver rushing through her, this time not from his gentle touch, but the cold look in his usually warm eyes. "Hey," she said gently, "Remember how you felt when I said that you should kiss me." Amy waited for him to nod, albeit hesitantly. "You should probably do that again, because I don't like you when you're angry."

The corner of Charlie's lip twitched. "It's not anger," he protested, although Amy was pretty sure she saw a flame of "not anger" in his eyes. "It's protectiveness." He leaned down, stopping just as his lips brushed Amy's. "But, only after you take a shower, because, and I say this in the nicest way possible Amy, you smell." Amy allowed a laugh to escape her, ignoring the pain in her side.

"Deal."

…..

It's needless to say that Amy was nothing less than ecstatic about being able to wash away the blood and grime from the night before. The only problem she realized was that she did not have any clothes to change into seeing as her clothes from the night before were torn beyond repair and the rest of her clothes were all at Hogwarts, excluding her thin summer clothes which were residing at her apartment in London. As she stood in the middle of Charlie's bathroom, wrapped in one of his, of course, red and gold towels, Amy heard a soft knock at the door.

Hesitantly, Amy hitched the towel up higher, covering herself completely, before poking her head out the door to find Charlie with a pile of clothes in one hand, and his other hand covering his eyes in the most adorable way possible. He peeked through his fingers when he heard the door creak, before hurriedly shutting them and holding the clothes out to Amy, who took them quickly, shivering as the cold air hit her bare skin. She was slightly (okay, more than slightly) disappointed to see he had put a shirt on.

"Figured you could use some new clothes," Charlie mumbled from behind his hand. Amy pursed her lips together to restrain herself from laughing, before leaning a little further into the cold air of the hallway and placing a small kiss on Charlie's cheek.

"Thanks," she said simply, as a smile of his own crossed Charlie's face as she closed the door with a click. She pressed herself against the door, biting her finger gingerly as she heard him walk away, allowing a full grin to spread across her face, before she shook herself from her lovesick thoughts.

'_Great,'_ Amy thought. '_I'm turning into an uncontrollable, hormonal teenager.'_ But she supposed that wasn't too horrible of an idea. With a smile still spread brightly across her face, Amy began to pull on Charlie's much, much, much too large for her boxers and Gryffindor Quidditch (of course, what else could she expect from a male Weasley?), relishing in the warmth it provided her sore body. She looked at herself in the mirror, using her wand to quickly dry her hair, before hanging up her towel and exiting the steamed up bathroom.

As Amy exited the bathroom, she entered the dimmed empty hallway, glancing both ways before walking the opposite way she had come, exploring Charlie's apartment more in depth, peeking every once in a while at the family portraits on the wall, showing the Weasley family as they grew up. Amy made a mental note to examine the photos later for some embarrassing blackmail to use against the Twins and possibly Ron, when realization hit her… Charlie and she wouldn't be able to go public, or as the Brits say it "step out", with their newly formed relationship. She taught his siblings which could potentially damage her credibility as a teacher if anyone accused her of favoring any/all of the Weasley clan (_hem hem:_ Umbridge). All the fears that Amy had felt back in August came back to her as her thoughts raced back and forth throughout her mind, not noticing as Charlie came up behind her until he had wrapped his arms around her torso, pulling her from her stupor.

"You look too in thought for someone who is supposed to be on holiday," Charlie informed her, placing his chin atop her head as her hands wrapped around his, drawing his arms closer and tighter around her, reveling in his warmth. "Knut for your thoughts?"

Amy snorted. "Only a Knut?" she joked, before sobering almost immediately. She sighed as they swayed slightly in the dim hall. "I'm just thinking about what happens next… where do we go from here?"

"Well," Charlie started slowly. "Where do you want to go from here?" Amy thought for a moment.

"I would love to go tell everyone, the whole world even, that we finally wised up," Amy began carefully, feeling Charlie chuckle, the vibrations racing through her body. "But at the same time, I know we can't really tell anyone, not really." She turned in his arms to look up at Charlie, who looked down at her curiously. "You understand why of course, right?" A thoughtful look passed Charlie's face before realization set in as Amy glanced pointedly at a family photo of Charlie, Bill, and their younger siblings.

"You teach my siblings," he answered simply, as Amy nodded,

"Exactly," Amy agreed, "and Umbridge will use any excuse to get rid of me." Charlie squinted his eyes slightly.

"And why is that?" he asked, raising his eyebrow curiously. Amy flushed slightly.

"I may have called Fudge a fairly large coward," Amy admitted, grimacing as Charlie's eyebrows rose in astonishment. "To her face. During her "High-Inquisitor" interview of me."

"You know for such a bright witch," Charlie informed her, his eyebrows almost disappearing in the edge of his hair, "You can be kind of stupid."

"Tell me about it," Amy said, wincing as she moved awkwardly, irritating her still sore and aching side. "Why do you think I'm so beat up?"

Charlie thought for a moment as he released one of Amy's hands to pull her to his kitchen where he had medical supplies (no doubt in his apartment for his many dragon-induced injuries). "The Death Eaters must've wanted you because you are just so funny." Amy snorted.

"Right," she said as she sat down at one of the island stools. "They Crucio'd me because of my delightful humor." Amy froze as she realized what she had just said, knowing exactly when it registered with Charlie because of the automatic, unconscious tensing of his hand in hers. She looked at him hesitantly, wincing at the look in his eyes. "Woops," she said sheepishly.

"Woops?" Charlie asked disbelievingly. "What do you mean woops? How is being Crucio'd a woops?"

Amy grimaced. "Not so much the actual cursing, but the telling you part."

"Oh," Charlie began tensely. "So, we're not even a day into our relationship and we're already keeping secrets?"

"Charlie," Amy said slowly, staring him directly in the eyes. "This isn't supposed to upset you. After all, _you _weren't the one who was cursed, and besides, if we're going to be keeping our relationship a secret, we should probably practice." Charlie looked at her seriously before pursing his lips.

"I suppose you're right," he sighed, "as much as I hate that you are." He sighed again. "Just remember, that even though I am _not _the one being cursed, I don't want to see you get hurt, okay?" When Amy nodded in agreement, Charlie continued. "So, that's the plan then?" Amy looked at him curiously. "We're keeping this-" he gestured to the two of them, "-between us?"

A sad look crossed over his face, and Amy's face mirrored his.

"I'm sorry, Charlie," Amy whispered softly, taking his other hand in hers. "I know you must hate keeping this a secret from your family, but-"

"It's to protect them," Charlie interrupted her, squeezing her fingers understandingly. "We'll tell them eventually, when everything calms down."

Amy snorted. "Right," she replied sarcastically, "when things 'calm down'. When exactly do you think that'll happen?" Charlie chuckled gruffly.

"Okay, okay," he agreed. "Before things calm down, alright?" Amy nodded, a smile tugging softly at her lips as she pulled her hunky dragonkeeper upwards, pressing her lips to his passionately.

"Sounds like a plan," she murmured as they pulled away, breathing heavily. "And speaking of a plan, were you planning to visit your father while he's in St. Mungo's?"

Charlie thought for a moment. "Yes," he began slowly. "I was, but with you being here…" He trailed off.

"No," Amy said firmly, looking Charlie sternly in the eye. "Don't let me stop you. He's you dad, you should go see him. You _will _go see him."

"Alright," Charlie agreed, holding his hands up in surrender. He was silent for a moment. "Do you want to come with me?"

Amy smiled gently. "Nah, you go alone," she urged him. Charlie looked at her uncertainly. "Really," Amy insisted. "While you're at St. Mungo's, I'll sneak back into Hogwarts and get some fresh clothes; I can't keep borrowing yours after all."

Charlie raised an eyebrow mischieviously, looking very much like his twin brothers. "Well, I don't know," he teased, placing a large, warm hand on Amy's thigh, once again sending shivers (what was with him and making her shiver?) through her body, warming her to the core. "I quite like the way you look in my clothes." He winked impishly, causing Amy to groan.

"Good to know you have the mentality of a fourth year," Amy said despondently. "Or worse, the Twins." Charlie grunted.

"Well, we'll talk about _that _later," he said, brushing her comment off. "But for now, let's get started on healing you." Charlie pulled his potions and bandages towards him, kneeling down in front of her again. As he started to examine her injuries, Amy smiled again (she just couldn't keep a smile off her face, could she?).

"Sounds like a plan," she said softly, her smile matching Charlie's.

…..

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> There it is, in all its crappy glory. Review as you see fit (although it does brighten my day when I happen to check my email in class (coincidentally, when I'm not suppose to be checking my email, but instead doing some mundane task, like preparing for finals or working on a group project for a class that I have no interest in whatsoever because the coolest teacher at my high school (excluding my Latin teacher) left and now we are stuck with the boring teacher who puts us to sleep) and see a charming review from any number of my charming reviewers!

Have a great week!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	28. Chapter 27

**AN: **So, I wasn't actually going to post this chapter today, but I felt I should post something at least, considering I was suppose to update on Boxing day, and then I told myself to update on New Year's, and I never did, so I felt I should post _something_. So... sorry if it's not amazing, but... it is something, and there is some Charlie/Amy towards the end. Hope everyone had a great break/holidays!  
><strong>Dedication: <strong>To Annie, Ghikhan, and Julie! Happy Belated Birthdays!  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>I own nothing that you recognize.

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><p>Several hours later, Amy found herself on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, which she had just Apparted into. Amy pulled one of Charlie's scarves closer around her neck as she trudged through the snow, bracing herself against the bone-chilling winds that were blowing harshly against her as she approached the castle, which was looming in the distance. The snow was almost knee high, and Amy was glad she had borrowed a pair of Charlie's worker boots, without them she'd probably be adding lost toes to her list of mostly healed injuries. Already, she couldn't wait to get back to Charlie's apartment, which was far more cozy then the drafty castle, of whose grounds she had just entered. Even if Charlie wasn't there (he was at St. Mungo's visiting his dad, after much reassurance from Amy that she would be fine without him for a few hours) at least she would be somewhere she felt safe. Not to say that she didn't feel safe at Hogwarts, after all, it was the safest place in Wizarding Britain, but Amy would prefer to be somewhere that didn't have the constant fear of a certain toad-like witch popping out of dark corners.<p>

The chance of running into Umbridge, who was likely roaming the halls and crushing the Christmas spirits of little children (and Amy did not mean that figuratively), and running into her would be extremely problematic, seeing as the Toad-Witch would probably demand to know exactly where she had been, which Amy would of course never tell, but it's not like she would Umbridge that.

So, Amy's plan was pretty simple, and consisted of her sneaking back onto the grounds (complete), collect her clothes for the break, and avoid Umbridge, Filch, and his nasty cat at all costs (that thing seriously needs a bath). Simple enough, but as the past few years (actually the past few hours) had shown, Hogwarts and Amy's lives were anything but simple.

While the halls were decorated to the point of combustion with holly, garland, candles, and numerous Christmas trees, the halls were basically deserted. Amy was sure that the students were most likely huddled around the fires of their common rooms, basking in the glorious warmth that Amy coveted, especially as she shivered in the chilly hallways. Quickly, Amy rushed up several flights of stairs, dodging the tricks steps, and several Christmas caroling ghosts, who were very determined to have Amy listen to their catchy renditions of Wizarding carols, as she approached her room. Although it had been less than twenty four hours since she had been in her quarters, something seemed cozy, the rich colors had once seemed to hug her, filling her with warmth, but after everything she had been through, it was almost as though it didn't still feel like home… as though its once warm embrace was now emotionless and cold.

Amy shivered, desperate to shake these feelings from her body as she busied herself around her room, gathering articles of clothing, essays that needed to be graded, books, and many other miscellaneous materials, stuffing them into a bag of hers. She had just closed her lesson planner, stuffing it into her bag so she could make the necessary revisions to it, when, from outside her room, Amy heard numerous voices, all identifiable, and the majority of them angry about something.

Amy shut her bag with a snap, picking it up, before padding softly across the floor, pressing her ear against the entrance so as to hear what exactly was going on.

"Professor, may I remind you," Umbridge's nasally voice began, leaking through the crack between the door and the floor, "that you specifically informed me that Professor Wyman was here all night, and yet, several hours have passed and there has been no sign of her. I've said it from the very beginning that she is a no good-" Amy opened the door, cutting Umbridge the Toad off in mid-insult. She put on a surprised face as the Toad and Professor Dumbledore turned to her.

"Oh, professors!" Amy greeted brightly. "Just the people I wanted to see!" Amy smile (despite its falseness) could have lit up the darkest of dungeons, and the witch sent a brief, humorous wink at the Headmaster, before replacing her bright façade.

"Is that so?" Dumbledore asked jovially, catching onto the game that Amy was playing and joining in. "And why is that?"

Amy emitted a fairy like, although very fake, giggle. "To wish you a Merry Christmas, of course!" she cried brightly, beaming at the jovial Headmaster and the snooty, toady witch. "I was just on my way out actually." Amy continued. She reached for her bag which she had set at the entrance to her room. "I'm heading back to the States, you see." (Not true actually. Her parents had decided to take a trip in honor of their 30 year anniversary, so Amy was actually staying in London, but Umbridge didn't need to know that.) "I don't really have a say in any holiday plans. Not when my mom has anything to say about it." (That was true, so very true.) Amy made a show of checking her watch. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm actually running late, and you know how mothers can be. You're late by five minutes and they think you've been kidnapped. Again, Happy Holidays professors!" Amy said this all so quickly that she gave Umbridge and Dumbledore no time to respond, aside from the Toad's undignified sputtering and the Headmaster's bright Holiday wishes, as Amy walked down the hall.

She thought she was in the clear until she heard the witch-toad's girlish voice from behind her.

"Professor Wyman! Excuse me, professor!" Amy groaned before plastering a very fake smile across her face and turning to look at the witch who was waddling towards her at the full speed of a snail.

"Yes?" Amy asked through clenched teeth, raising an eyebrow, trying in any way, shape, or form to hide her distaste for the toad-like woman, who had finally bumbled to a halt in front of the younger witch.

The Toad-Woman smiled up at Amy, making her feel so much taller, as she looked down upon her colleague (and Amy used that in the loosest of terms).

"I wanted to talk to you about your job performance review, dear," Umbridge began, smiling at Amy with pointed teeth.

Something began to brew in the pit of Amy's stomach. Fear? Worry? Hatred? An most unnatural urge to beat Umbridge's face in with a candy cane perhaps? "Oh," Amy started, "What about it?" Umbridge's snarly smile grew larger. So did the feeling in Amy's stomach.

"Well," the older witch said slowly, obviously trying for dramatic effect. "After much thought an consideration, and after approval from the Minister of Magic, the Ministry, and, of course, myself, we believe that it is fit to inform you that you are to be put on probation, staring immediately." Amy's false smile began to slide off her face as Umbridge continued. "In addition to you being on probation, I will now observe all of your classes to ensure that the students are learning in environment deemed safe and constructive by the Ministry." She paused. "I'm sure you understand. It's for the children's good after all." Umbridge smiled her sickeningly sweet snarl, as Amy restrained herself from punching the witch (she doubted that would be considered a 'safe and constructive' way of teaching the Toad a lesson).

"Of course," Amy said dully. "I understand. It's for the _children's_ sake, it's all for the _children._" A deaf person would've been able to hear the sarcasm in Amy's voice. "And just out of curiosity, did you even talk to the American Wizarding Ambassadors about this? Because they were the ones who cleared me to work as a teacher before I even _thought_ about teaching at Hogwarts. They obviously believed that I had the right ethics to safely teach young wizards and witches, why do you think differently?"

"Why do I think differently, dear?" Umbridge asked laughingly, placing a pudgy hand over her heart as she giggled. "You obviously have no boundaries between your life and the lives of your students! You treat the students like your friends or equals rather than the inferior children that they are. It's your responsibility as a teacher to teach, and you cannot do that if you are acting as childish as the students we teach. Do you understand?"

Amy narrowed her eyes, nodding her head sharply. "Absolutely."

"I'm so glad you understand, dear," Umbridge concluded, smiling brightly now, patting Amy on the arm with her pudgy, ring laden hand. "Happy Christmas!" The Toad turned and began to waddle down the now deserted hall, Professor Dumbledore having left some time earlier.

Amy took a deep breath, trying to control herself, but alas, she did something stupid again.

"Umbridge," Amy started, causing the witch to stop in her tracks and look over her shoulder. "Were you born a nasty, heartless witch or did you become this way because your mother didn't love you, called you fat, and only fed you rocks and falcon eggs?" A sense of satisfaction spread through Amy, warming her as a look of hatred crossed the Toad's face. The witch gave no response, but instead turned her head and continued to waddle down the hall, leaving Amy alone once more.

"Witch," Amy muttered angrily.

…..

"Probation?" Charlie asked, watching as Amy stalked angrily around his flat. "How can _you _be on probation?" Amy shot him a glare, halting from her pacing in front of Charlie.

"Because she hates me, that's why!" Amy griped, throwing her hands up in the air. "She's hated me since we first met. Apparently, I don't live up to her standards on how a witch should act. Add that to the fact that she believes I 'have no boundaries' between my life and my students, oh, and that I called Fudge a freaking coward, she would put be in Azkaban if she could."

"And?" Charlie questioned slowly. Amy looked him pointedly in the eye, before her shoulders slumped and she plopped herself down onto the couch next to him, placing her head in her hands. She muttered something into her palms, as Charlie placed an arm around her, drawing her closer to him. "Amy," he began softly, rubbing her back soothingly. He leaned down, placing his head close to hers. "I didn't catch a word of that."

A muffled laugh escaped from Amy's hands. Amy lifted her head up, turning to look Charlie in the eye. Hazel met blue and Amy relaxed slightly. "What did I do to deserve you?"

Charlie stared at Amy, a curious look passing over his face. "Well," he began quietly. "First of all, you have no boundaries between your life and the lives of your students, which just shows that you are the friendliest witch I know, second, you called Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, a coward to his face and the face of his stalker, and lastly, you don't live up to the standards set by an ugly toad who dares call herself a witch fit for teaching. You set your own standards, and not only to you live up to them, but you exceed them by being the most intelligent, courageous, humorous, lovely, beautiful, wonderful-"

Amy cut him off, pressing her lips passionately against his. Charlie smiled against her lips, one of his hands winding up into her hair, pulling her closer.

She pulled away after a minute or so, a trembling smile gracing her face. "You," Amy murmured, "are too nice." She pecked his lips once more, before settling back into the couch, Charlie's arms still wrapped around her.

A comfortable silence fell over the two; the only sound their soft breathing.

Several minutes passed, Amy's fingers entwined with Charlie's as she tentatively opened her mouth. "How's," she swallowed as he looked over at her. "How's your dad?" Charlie's arms tightened ever so slightly.

"He's been better," he began slowly. "But he should be fine. He should be out of the hospital before the end of the holidays." Amy pressed her forehead comfortably against Charlie's neck.

"That's great," Amy said quietly. A moment passed between them. "So, you know, I still have to get you a Christmas present." She looked up at Charlie, biting her lip innocently, as he raised an eyebrow.

He waited a minute before shrugging. "Nah, I don't need a gift." It was Amy's turn to raise her eyebrow.

"And why's that?" She asked, a smile tugging at her lips. A grin crossed Charlie's face before he pulled her into his lap so she was facing him, and arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her close to him.

"Because I could never want anything more than what I have now," he whispered to her, before pulling her down into a sweet kiss, Amy more than happy to comply.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>I hope you guys enjoyed it! I tried to make it sweet/fluffy at the end.

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	29. Chapter 28

**AN:** Not even going to bother making excuses, because I know, trust me I know, that I am beyond late on updating. All I can really do is apologize and hope you guys enjoy this chapter.

**Dedication: **To Bridgy and Lydia! Happy Birthday guys! But even more importantly, to brb babe/, thank you so much for the reviews. I was having one of the worst days of my life, and you can imagine my surprise when I pulled out my iPod and it said I had 43 unread emails. While it was tedious to go through every one of those emails, it brightened my day considerably, and I figure I should answer your questions now. I especially love the reviews that were simply a repeated word, and the fact that you boosted my reviews to 100. :-) Thanks so much, and I'm glad I could be a distraction for you! Oh, and my cat hates me too, so don't worry, you're not alone!

So, to respond to a few of your reviews brb babe...

No, I have not seen The Vow yet, but I plan on seeing it, especially because Channing Tatum is kind of attractive.

You picked m absolutely favorite Dumbledore quote of all time by the way.

When I think about it, I don't know any Ruths, but it's probably not the _worst_. There's always Dorcas.

I would absolutely **love** some cheesecake, but as part of Lent, I've given up all desserts... :-(

I hope getting me to 100 reviews isn't the last thing you do either! Although, I would be eternally grateful!

! Even though the sound of it is something quite atrosicous! If you say it loud enough, you'll always sound precocious, !

Your idea sounds pretty awesome actually! Let me know when you put it up, I'll definitely read it!

Sorry you wasted your whole Wednesday!

Drink all the Apple Juice! After all, I'm only fifteen!

Now... On with the show!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing you recognize.

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><p>Amy had expected, or rather hoped, that her Christmas would be spent alone with Charlie, most likely acting as lazy as possible while sneaking a few (okay, maybe more than a <em>few) <em>kisses here and there. She did not expect to find herself accompanying the entire Weasley family, excluding Percy of course, who was still being a giant idiot, to St. Mungo's as their guard along with Lupin and Mad-Eye. It had come as a surprise to both her, and Charlie for that matter, when she received a letter from Molly on Christmas Eve asking if she would act as part of the guard for Harry.

Of course, Amy and Charlie both figured that this was a ploy for Molly to get the two of them together, but they were happened to already be a step ahead of Mother Weasley. This also meant that they would have to try to stop with the couple routine for a while; at least they would need to if they wanted to keep their relationship a secret, especially from Molly. Amy made sure to tell Charlie this.

"I guess you're right," he sighed. Amy raised an eyebrow from where she stood in front of him.

"Of course I'm right," she replied smugly, crossing her arms. Charlie raised an eyebrow of his own, that mischievous Weasley sparkle entering his eyes. He leaned towards her teasingly.

"So, I guess that means no hand holding?" he asked slowly, entwining his fingers with hers, purposefully rubbing the skin on the back of her hand softly, as he pulled her closer to him and the couch. Amy shivered slightly but allowed herself to be pulled towards the wizard.

"Nope," she answered calmly. "No hand holding." A smirk began to grow on Charlie's face.

"No intensely staring into each other's eyes?" He tugged on her hand and into his lap, his arms winding around her waist. Blue met hazel, sparks flying between the two, and Charlie's smirk grew larger as Amy's lips began to show the beginning of a smile.

"None of that," she ordered, her smile spread completely across her face. Charlie leaned forward even further, so that his lips just barely touched the shell of her ear.

"No secrets, whispered into the other's ears?" he murmured, his breath tickling the hairs that rested on the nape of her neck. Amy closed her eyes, trying to control her breathing.

"Nuh-uh."

Charlie pulled away, although not too far, keeping his face inches from Amy's. "And what about kissing? Am I not allowed to kiss my dear witch?"

Amy scrunched her face up in thought, an action that Charlie considered too adorable for her own good. "Well," she began softly; "I don't know about that…" she trailed off, smiling as Charlie pressed his lips gently against hers.

…..

Charlie left early the next day so that he could spend Christmas morning with his family, leaving Amy behind with a kiss goodbye and a reminder to be at Grimmuald Place for lunch. He had tried to actually get her out of bed, but, despite it being very early, she was surprisingly strong and refused to let go of the blanket that was protecting her from the chilly apartment. Finally, Charlie gave up, releasing the blanket that he had been trying to pull off the witch. Amy in response simply groaned and rolled over, allowing herself to fall back to sleep. Charlie paused for a moment at the doorway, looking fondly back at the witch who was snuggled up against his pillows, breathing deeply, before turning on the spot and vanishing.

Amy finally dragged herself out of bed a few hours later, after having to tell herself several times that is would not be a good idea to show up at a hospital with bed-head and in pajamas. Especially when the shirt she was wearing was that of a man that no one was supposed to know she was dating. Amy sighed, looking at herself in the mirror, admiring how Charlie's shirt simply looked like it belong on her, before taking it off, jumping into the shower.

Soon enough, Amy was pulling on a coat, one of her own this time (She didn't want to take the chance of Molly recognizing one of Charlie's; things could get messy very quickly), and Apparating out of his apartment. Amy landed, rather gracefully actually, across the street from Number Twelve Grimmuald place, and needless to say, it had changed much in the past couple of months. The building was still just as dirty and grimy as it had been in the summer, the brightness of the snow making the house seem even grungier than it was.

Amy eyeballed the building as she crossed the street, glancing both ways as she jogged up the steps, making sure to skip over the icy steps. She really didn't want to deal with the embarrassment that came with falling down steps, especially on Christmas. Amy raised her hand to knock on the door, before realizing that everyone would probably be in the kitchen and thus unable to hear her. So, seeing as she didn't want to be some weirdo standing on the stoop of building that didn't even exist to most people, Amy grasped the doorknob, glancing behind her at the empty street, before opening the door and stepping inside the warm building.

She hurriedly shut the door, although very quietly, preventing the wind from blowing in any snow. It wouldn't do her any good to track snow through the house, although Amy doubted that Sirius would be very concerned about it. She knew just how much he hated this house and just how much he wished it could be burned to the ground.

Quietly, Amy slunk down the hall, making sure to be extraordinarily quiet as she passed the screaming portrait of Mrs. Black; Amy didn't want to ruin Christmas by setting that nasty old hag off. As she approached the kitchen, where Amy knew the household would be, she began to unbutton her coat. Even from the hallway, she could tell that the kitchen was going to be _very _warm, especially seeing as Molly had probably been cooking all morning.

The kitchen was filled to the bursting point with Weasleys, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, food, presents, miscellaneous decorations, and a few odd members of the Order. She stood in the door way for a moment taking in the cozy scene before her: everyone was settled around the table, sans Molly who was at the oven, a very motherly feeling just flowing from her, while the others laughed and smiled. It was probably the first time Amy had ever seen Sirius smile, each joke or tease taking years off of him. It suited him, laughing, it really did.

"-might have crawled into the airing cupboard and died," Sirius was saying cheerfully. "But I mustn't get my hopes up…" The Twins and Ron laughed while Hermione looked on disapprovingly. Amy took this as her chance to announce her arrival.

"I do hope you're not talking about me, Sirius," Amy began, stepping into the kitchen. "I would be completely _heartbroken _if you were." Sirius turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow as he answered her.

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" he winked jokingly before letting out a hearty laugh. Amy smiled brightly at the man before being pulled into a fairly large hug from Molly.

"Oh, it's so good to see you, dearie!" Molly exclaimed, holding Amy tightly. She pulled away, keeping a grip on the younger witch's shoulders. "Although, I must say, you are much too skinny, but that school has always had problems keeping its students and faculty nice and healthy." The current Hogwarts students snickered, pleased to see that Mother Weasley had decided to focus on someone else's eating habits, rather than their own. Amy rolled her own eyes (once she was sure Molly wasn't looking at her, of course), catching Charlie's eye just for a moment, before the two casually turned away from each other. "We'll need to fatten you up, won't we?"

Before Amy could throw in a word of her own, Molly ushered her to the table, forcing her into a seat, of course, in between Charlie and Remus, who didn't look too upset about having their conversation interrupted (well, Charlie didn't at least), before hurrying back to the stove where lunch was waiting. With a wave of her wand, Molly had the plates and platters flying towards the table, landing with a thud, where they continued to steam and ooze deliciousness.

The table waited in anticipation for Molly to take her seat before digging in to their Christmas lunch. There were probably twenty different conversations going on at once, and Amy found herself content just to sit there and listen to everything around her. Her family's Christmas was nothing like this, maybe when she was younger, just a child, it may have been like this, but now it was rare to have this much noise on Christmas Day. It was usually just the tedious crooning of some cliché holiday songs combined with Rose's complaining, Rich's teasing, Eric's peacekeeping, and her parents' slurred speech as they drank more and more champagne, followed by all of them taking naps, leaving Amy to ponder her family's weirdness in silence as she read one of her many Christmas gifts, because it seemed like all people were capable of giving her anymore were books. Not that Amy was complaining of course! Books just gave her a reason to be anti-social and _not _get criticized, at least, not by her family. Her friends still thought she was dorky to the point of exploding.

The Weasley Christmas was the exact opposite. There was never a moment of silence; someone always had something to say, whether it was on Quidditch, homework, or for someone to pass the potatoes. Although the noise was a new to her, all of the commotion just seemed right, especially coming from this family. Amy didn't think they would be the Weasley family if there wasn't _something _going on.

What was even more surprising to Amy though was the fact that she and Remus, and even Harry and Hermione, just seemed to fit in, no worries whatsoever. It had taken her sister's boyfriend _years_ to be around her family without some sort of awkwardness, although he surely was beloved by the entire family now, mostly because he had put up with Rose for so long _without _running away screaming. It was like a miracle of sorts.

Amy jumped slightly as Charlie moved his free hand onto her leg, just above her knee, the heat from his hand seeping through her jeans into her skin. She looked at him from the corner of her eye, wondering just what on earth he was doing. They had gone over this several times: they had to try not act 'couplely' in any way, which included, but was not limited to, hand holding, staring intensely into the other's eyes, whispering in each other's ears, and kissing.

She would have simply shaken his hand off, but the warmth of his hand against her leg was slightly intoxicating, and plus, she considered, who would even see it? Her leg was under the table after all, so Amy let it slide, although she did pinch his hand gently, shooting him a look, an almost unnoticeable look, to which he simply smiled, picking at his food.

Soon enough, the entire gang was forcing themselves into the back of Mundungus's "borrowed" car to visit Mr. Weasley. Although Mrs. Weasley didn't really want to get into the car because of her obvious dislike for the grubby man, she still took it upon herself to make sure that Amy was squished between Charlie and the door. Neither Amy nor Charlie was complaining though, the secret couple quite content to be pressed against the other, even if it was for a short amount of the time. The two shared a brief look as they pulled up to shabby looking street.

As Amy stepped out of the car, followed by Charlie, who quickly stepped away from her, placing himself with his siblings, the witch looked up and down the street for any sign of the hospital. This was the first time she had ever been to St. Mungos, and thus, she had absolutely no idea where it was. When she was unable to locate it, she looked to Remus and Moody, who were ushering the others towards a red brick building, which looked as though it had been closed for ages.

Amy raised her eyebrow curiously before following after the group, jogging to avoid a car that was moving towards them. She eyed a puddle of slushy mud at the curb, trying to judge if she had enough room to jump across it, when a hand reached towards her. Amy looked up to see Charlie, a coy smirk across his face.

"What?" he asked, his mouth quirking slightly. "You never said anything about not being a gentleman. Or is that also against the rules?" Amy pursed her lips together to hide her bemused smile, taking his hand nonetheless.

"British people," she murmured as she passed him, shaking her head. "Always so freaking polite." Amy hurried her steps so that she could catch up to the rest of the group, who were standing before one of the empty store fronts. Amy stepped up behind Hermione, peering over the girl's hat and curly (curly, curly, _curly) _hair to look at the glass building. "Is there a reason we're standing outside an empty shop? Last minute Christmas shopping perhaps?"

Hermione shrugged. "I honestly have absolutely no idea," the younger witch admitted, shaking her head, her unruly curls shivering in the cold winter wind.

Amy let out a comically gasp. "You don't know? What has the world come to?" Hermione shot the professor a look at the same time that Remus stopped before the group, looking up into the impassive face of the mannequin that rested behind the glass before him before him.

"We're here to see Arthur Weasley," Remus said clearly, his breath fogging up the dirty glass that stood between him and the doll. A moment of awkward silence passed over the group, and Amy raised her eyebrow curiously, before her eyes widened in awe as the dummy nodded slightly, beckoning the group forward with the movement of one finger. She looked back over her shoulder at Charlie, who simply shrugged before urging the witch forward with the rest of the group who had already disappeared through the smudged glass.

"It's just magic," he whispered, leaning forward so that his mouth was near inches away from her ear. "Don't you love magic?" Amy shivered, although whether it was from the chilly winds or the feel of his warm breath on her neck, the witch wasn't exactly sure, although she suspected it had something to do with the latter.

On the other side, Amy was welcomed into the sterile warmth of the brightly lit hospital. From a glance it wasn't that much different than any other hospital Amy had seen growing up. Her parents were both still nurses, and thus, she had spent a fair amount of time hanging out in empty patient rooms studying and wasting as much time as she could on her off days. St. Mungos had the same over-clean smell that made Amy slightly nauseous as well as the horrendous color-scheme that every hospital seemed to have (they just couldn't figure out what colors went with what could they?). She had thought that possibly wizards would've been smart enough to know that pea-green did not go well with anything, but from what Amy could see from the walls of the waiting room, they hadn't. Accompanying the green walls were festive decorations of crystal orbs that changed colors periodically as well as holly sprigs that hung around the walls of the room.

Amy followed the group of redheads and their cohorts up a flight of stairs and down a series of halls before entering the Dai Llewellyn ward where the group found Arthur, sitting up in bed with a tray of picked at dinner, a rather timid look on his face. Amy sent Arthur a bright smile and gentle wave before stepping a little bit behind the group so as not to intrude on the holiday family time.

Arthur shifted uncomfortably for a moment or so, his hand running over his side briefly, almost as though in irritation, before coming to rest over his wife's. Amy narrowed her eyes slightly but knowing that the irritation would not go unnoticed by Molly. Sure enough, the giving of the presents from the rest of his family was stopped by Molly.

"Everything all right, Arthur?" Molly broke in anxiously, eyeing her husband's side with curiosity.

"Fine, fine," Arthur said happily, although his words sound forced, something that Molly, the ever-observant wife noticed immediately. Hoping to discourage his wife from asking any more questions, Arthur dove into his gifts with the vigor of a six year old, ribbons and paper flying as he tore through the wrappings of his first gift. Apparently, while in the hospital, Arthur had forgotten just how determined his wife was, because as he adamantly thanked Harry for his gift of muggle hardware tools, Molly inconspicuously looked at the gauze wrapped under Arthur's night shirt.

"Arthur," Molly began, her voice so sharp that it cut off any and all conversations in the room, "you've had your bandages changed. Why have you had your bandages changed a day early, Arthur?" Her voice was beginning to get higher and higher as Molly grew more and more frantically frazzled. "They told me they wouldn't need doing until tomorrow."

Arthur looked around in a panic, searching for any words that may save him from the wrath of his wife, who seemed to quickly be filling with steam. Arthur refused to make eye contact, as though afraid that she would kill him with a single glance.

"Well- now don't get upset Molly, but Augustus Pye had an idea… He's the Trainee Healer, you know, lovely young chap." Arthur looked up now as though searching for a life raft, his eyes falling upon Amy, and his eyes lit up for a brief minute. "You would like him, Amy. He's a fine, polite man, top of his class-"

"Arthur!" Molly warned her husband impatiently, as a flush rose up Amy's face. The Twins snickered at their teacher's reddening face, and Amy swore she could see a smirk on Charlie's face as Arthur continued with what he had been saying.

"Well, Augustus is very interested in... um… complementary medicine… I mean, some of these old Muggle remedies….well, they're called _stitches,_ Molly, and they work very well on- on Muggle wounds-"

Molly let out an almost inhuman growl, sending Bill and the Twins basically running from the room on the context that they were going for tea, while the younger students took cautious steps backwards. Even Lupin made himself scarce by moving to the other side of the room to talk to one of the other patients. Amy spared a glance at Harry and Hermione, who was shaking their heads with disbelief. They obviously knew exactly where this was going and what it meant.

Amy had received stitches before at a very young age, two or three maybe, when she had fallen off her brother's bunk bed because of a weak railing. She had landed face first into the wooden safety rail and had been taken to the nearest hospital. She still had a scar, at the top of her forehead as proof, although it remained hidden under her bangs most of the time. She only had to have three stitches put in, which at the time probably had seemed like one hundred, but the scar itself was only about an inch and a half. The only difference with her story and Arthur's was that she had been wounded via a faulty railing and he a poisonous snake. Just minor differences, of course, nothing more.

"Do you mean to tell me, that you have been messing about with Muggle remedies?" Molly demanded through clenched teeth, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Not messing about, Molly, dear," Arthur replied, attempting to soothe his wife, which was almost likely placing a tin can in front of an oncoming tank in hope of protecting yourself. "It was just- just something Pye and I thought we'd try- only, most unfortunately- well, with these particular kinds of wounds- it doesn't seem to work as well as we'd hoped-"

"_Meaning?" _Arthur and his visitors winced at the hissed words that had escaped from the usually kind witch.

"Well… well, I don't know whether you know what- what stitches are?" Arthur's visitors winced as they heard his voice tremble slightly as he began to panic as Molly laughed mirthlessly.

Amy and Charlie spared a glance towards each other before turning away hastily, not wanting to raise any suspicions, but no one's attention was on the two of them. Instead, the entire room seemed to be looking for a way to escape Molly's wrath.

"It sounds as though you've been trying to sew your skin back together," she forced out through her teeth, trembling with rage. "But even you, Arthur, wouldn't be _that _stupid-"

"Anyone care for a cup of tea?" Charlie broke in, standing up straight from his leaning position on the wall near his father's bed. He motioned with his head towards the door, and the Gryffindors shot to their feet, all but running to the ward door, with courses of "Love one!", "Sounds good!", and "You bet!" just as Molly exploded after Arthur's muttered response to her rather cruel comment.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THAT'S THE GENERAL IDEA?"

Amy didn't even spare a glance behind her as she too raced towards the doors of the ward on the pretense that she would watch over the others. As Amy escaped out into the hall, she shut the door behind her so as to incase the rage-filled screaming in the room. The witch eased away from the room in relief, kind of surprised that she had survived.

"Are you coming, professor?" a voice asked. Amy looked over her shoulder to see Harry and the others waiting for her. She spared one last look at the ward doors, pitying those stuck behind them, before nodding and falling into step behind the students.

As the kids led the way to the tea room, Charlie eased away from them until he was walking next to Amy, close enough that the witch could feel his heat through her sweater. The couple slowed their steps, allowing Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny to walk ahead, putting some space between them.

As the teens conversed amongst themselves, Amy and Charlie distanced themselves, enabling them to speak semi-freely.

"Stitches," Charlie muttered shaking his head. "I don't know what Dad was thinking. I mean, I know he has this fascination with Muggles, but stitching his skin back together? That's extreme even for him."

Amy shot him a look. "But in the right situation, stitches actually work."

Charlie snorted. "Yeah, but this was quite obviously _not _the right situation. Dad just had to mess with stitches." Amy rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Just like you're mother," Amy murmured, although loud enough for Charlie to hear. The wizard gasped, placing a hand over his heart.

"I'm wounded," he declared mournfully, batting his eyelashes like a teenager in despair. Amy giggled, elbowing him in the side. He winced. "Abuse," he announced, pointing a finger at the witch. "Abuse! You abused me! I am a victim." He would've been taken seriously were it not for the large grin that was spread across his face. Amy raised her hands and looked up at the ceiling.

"Why?" she pondered aloud. "Why in the world do I find this wimp so attractive?"

"Hey!" Charlie protested. "I am not a-" Charlie broke off mid-sentence as he noticed that the group ahead of him had stopped in their tracks, obvious uneasiness etched onto their face. As the couple came closer to the teens, Amy spied a wizard, maybe seven or eight years older than herself, talking animatedly to the students. At first glance, he was blatantly attractive: bright blue eyes, broad, dazzling smile, California blonde hair, but when Amy looked again, she took in the vacant look in his eyes, the greasy texture of his waved hair, and the shockingly bright purple of his robe, which maybe preteen girl would've been able to pull off. _Maybe._ The two spared a brief glance, before coming to stand behind the students. From the looks of guilt that were spread across Ron and Harry's face and the embarrassed one on Hermione's, the group obviously knew this man, whoever he may be. Harry nervously began to speak.

"Should you be wandering around the corridors? Shouldn't you be in a ward?" Harry glanced anxiously at Ron, who merely shrugged while the man stared intently at Harry, a deep look of concentration, something that did not suit him at all, etched into his face.

He opened his mouth as though to speak but it took him a few tries before he was able to get his words out, as though he was trying to remember how to form the words that he wanted to say. "Haven't we met?" He asked finally.

The back of Ron's neck turned slightly red, as Harry rubbed his hands together nervously. "Er… yeah, we have," he answered, sparing a glance towards Hermione, whose face was bright red and who looked breathless. "You used to teach us at Hogwarts, remember?" Amy blinked her eyes several times and she tried to wrap her mind around what had just been said. '_He used to teach at Hogwarts?' _ She eyed his purple robes and boyish face. _'What _exactly _did he teach?'_

Apparently, even _he _didn't know what subject he taught. "Teach?" the wizard asked, his bright teeth glinting despite the dimness of the hospital's halls. "Me? Did I?" Amy pursed her lips so as to prevent herself from speaking for she was afraid that if she did she might say something offensive.

Before anyone could speak up, or give an excuse to get away from the clearly lost man, something along the lines of having a Quidditch game they needed to get to or maybe that one of them was having a heart attack, the wizard shrugged his shoulders as his eyes grew bright in excitement and smugness. "Taught you everything you know, I expect, did I? Well, how about those autographs, then? Shall we say a round dozen, you can give them to all your little friends then and nobody will be left out!" He looked up to wink at Amy, who raised her eyebrows. "Including your pretty little friend here." He stuck out his hand to Amy. "Hello, I'm-I'm," He trailed off, seemingly searching for his name, which Amy now realized he did not know.

The door behind him opened at the moment, revealing the face of a sweet, motherly looking Healer, who upon finding the group in the hall, placed her hands on her hips in an almost Mrs. Weasley way. "Gilderoy, you naught boy," the Healer reprimanded. "Where have you wandered off to?" Almost immediately, she noticed the group of people around her patient, and her eyes lit up.

"Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise, Gilderoy?" The matron smiled warmly. "How _lovely_, and on Christmas Day too!" She turned to the group huddled around Gilderoy, all of who looked very uncomfortable. "Do you know, he _never _gets visitors, poor lamb, and I can't think why, he's such a sweetie!"

"We're doing autographs!" Gilderoy proclaimed loudly as the motherly Healer led him back to the ward, the students following behind them with wary glances. Hermione, whose cheeks were still flushed a rather bright pink, looked back at Amy and Charlie, shrugging her shoulders before following after her friends.

As Charlie made to follow them, Amy grasped his wrist delicately, looking to make sure that they were alone in the hall, before turning him so as to draw him close to her.

"Who exactly is that wizard?" Amy asked demanded. "And how the hell do those four know him?" Charlie looked at Amy with confusion.

"Wait," he began slowly, his forehead wrinkling up as he took in what she had just said. "You don't know who Gilderoy Lockhart is?"

"Do you know who Steve Jobs is?" Amy shot back. Charlie shook his head slowly. "Exactly. Now shut up, and tell me who exactly that wizard is and why did we just let a bunch of underage students follow him?" Charlie sighed, shaking his head slightly before taking a deep breath.

"Gilderoy Lockhart is-" Charlie broke off, pondering his wording. "Or I guess _was _a bit of a celebrity in the Wizarding World. He wrote a whole series of novels about these 'encounters' he had with dark creatures and how he was able to 'defeat' them." Charlie snorted. "He was basically a household name up until a couple years ago, when Ron and the others were in their second year or so. Dumbledore was in desperate need for a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and Lockhart was the only one 'brave' enough to apply for the job. In the end though, he not only turned out to be a huge coward, which isn't surprising seeing as he was a Ravenclaw-" Amy glared at Charlie, who hastily backtracked so as to save himself from her wrath. "-not that Ravenclaws aren't courageous, it's just that they're more known for how amazingly brilliant they are, and how they always have their nose in a book, and wait… no…that didn't come out right…"

He sputtered to a stop realizing that he was just digging himself a bigger grave. He shook his head so as to shake away all of his "bad" thoughts. "It doesn't matter what he was," he specified. "What matters is that when Ginny was taken into the Chamber of Secret by You-Know-Who, Lockhart, who had told everyone he had known all along where the Chamber was located, was the one who was supposed to go and rescue her. Instead though, he decided he was going to skip out as soon as possible and leave her to rot." Charlie broke off bitterly, a look of anger and frustration crossing his face. "Sniveling little rat," he uttered under his breath.

Amy squeezed his hand tightly, lacing her fingers through his in an attempt to placate the wizard. He nodded gratefully before taking a breath and continuing. "Anyway, what ended up happening was that Ron and Harry practically dragged Lockhart to the Chamber of Secrets with them to get Ginny back, and the barmpot turned on the two, taking Ron's wand. Apparently, he had been taking all of his adventures from other wizards before Obliviating them, and he was now going to do the same to them. The poor bloke, however, didn't realize that Ron's wand was cracked, so when he cursed them, the hex rebounded hitting him instead and bye-bye memory."

Charlie pressed his lips together, nodding to himself as he finished speaking. "The blighter had it coming to him," he stated simply, and Amy couldn't help but nod in agreement with him.

"I couldn't agree more, love," she attested, gripping his strong chin in her fingers and pulling him down to her lips. "Besides," Amy murmured pulling away slightly, "I don't want anyone but you hitting on me." Charlie smirked the infamous Weasley smirk.

"Well, you know," Charlie started playfully, "I'm pretty awesome with flirting. Basically a master." Amy bit her lip, looking up into his bright blue eyes through her bangs.

"Oh really?" Amy bantered, as his arms slipped around her waist. He looked over his shoulder to make sure there was no one behind them before nuzzling her neck.

"Really," he answered, nipping slightly at her jaw line. "In fact, I bet I can get you to agree to go on a date with me in the next three minutes." Amy raised an eyebrow.

"And how exactly do you expect to do that?" she shot back, her fingers drawing lazy patterns on his forearms. Charlie looked at her secretively.

"Well, while a magician never reveals his secrets," Charlie began, ignoring Amy as she snorted at the image of him dressed up as a magician at a Muggle children's party, "I can tell you it will involve a lot of flattery and compliments."

"What kind of flattery?" Amy mused, fluttering her eyelashes in a joking manner.

"Only the best for you," Charlie murmured, his voice laced with pure honesty. "Like the fact that you have the most adorable smile, and the fact that you fit in my arms oh-so perfectly. Or even more important is that I absolutely love the way you bite your lip as though you are timid and that these past few days have been the best of my life."

Amy blinked, allowing his words to sink in and for her heart to melt as though she was a teenager again. "Well, Mr. Weasley," Amy whispered softly, "I think you've got that date." The sound of voices coming towards them alerted the couple that the students were coming back, but Charlie could help but steal one last kiss from his witch.

"I told you I would," he muttered, his breath tickling her soft lips, before he kissed her, allowing himself to sink into the warm feel of her, knowing that they wouldn't be able to do this again until they were back in his apartment. Although he wished the kiss would go on and on, Charlie reluctantly pulled away from Amy, placing several feet between himself and the witch as the others rounded the corner.

He may have to wait a while before he could do that again, but at least he was the _only _person who could do that to his dear witch.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Hope you guys liked it! If not review and tell me why! Review if you liked it too! And review if there's anything you guys really want to see in the upcoming chapters!

Thanks!

Signing off,

WiseGirl2772


	30. Chapter 29

**AN: **Sorry it took me so long. I'm going to try and update much more regularly now, for all my stories. Maybe once every two weeks? Maybe sooner. I'm not sure though because I just got roped into managing a musical, but I do have spring break this week, so I'll try and update again before I go back to school.

**Dedication: **Happy Birthday Johnny!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

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><p>The close of winter break was very much unappreciated by Charlie and Amy, for they knew exactly what was to come in the upcoming weeks. Amy would soon need to return to Hogwarts, where she would return to her teaching position under the watchful eye of Umbridge. Neither she nor Charlie was looking forward to this very much. They had in fact tried so hard as to push this inevitable event from their minds that the night before Amy was due to return to school, she hadn't even begun to pack her bags.<p>

The couple instead had burrowed themselves away in Amy's apartment, swaddled in blankets, as Amy told Charlie how he was actually supposed to play Scrabble, the Muggle way. She had to specify several times that it be the Muggle way since in their first few rounds, Charlie (the little sneak) had used his wand to Summon letters from the letter bag and was constantly trying to play words that were in fact not real words, at least not according to the Scrabble dictionary. Amy actually dug through one of her numerous boxes of books to find her dictionary so as to prove that many of his supposed words were not actually in the reference book. Charlie, in turn, decided he was tired of the game, and instead, he pushed the board from off the table and pulled Amy onto his lap.

Needless to say, the game was soon forgotten.

…..

"Do you have to go?" Charlie mumbled into Amy's hair. Night had fallen completely upon the two, and they had withdrawn themselves to the couch, the lights dimmed yet warm around them. Charlie's arms were wrapped tightly around Amy's waist, keeping her pressed closely and protectively against him.

Amy sighed softly, burrowing her face into the crook of his neck, her breath washing over him. "I suppose I could just quit," she murmured, pressing her lips softly to his jaw line. Charlie chuckled deeply, before tightening his grip on her waist.

"I just don't want anything to happen to you," he informed her gently. Amy tensed, sitting up slightly, preparing to tell him that she did _not _need to be protected, but Charlie stopped her with a look. "Don't say you don't need protecting. You can't show up at my apartment, bruised and bleeding, and then expect me to not worry about you."

Amy huffed grumpily to herself, flopping back down against his shoulder. "You don't need to take care of me though, I can do that myself."

Charlie smiled, pressing a kiss to her head. "I know you can, but I _want _to take care of you. I finally have you, and I'm not going to let anything take you away." Amy grumbled but allowed a small smile to grow on her face. She supposed it was nice to have someone there for her, someone to catch her if she fell, and he had such a nice pair of arms to fall into.

"You know this means you can't do anything stupid, right?" Charlie pressed, determined to convince Amy that she needed to be careful, especially now of all times. She may not realize it, but there was likely to be many people after her. Not only was she a member of the Order, but she was also a Muggle-born teacher at Hogwarts, which meant that her name was most definitely out there in the world. Added to the fact that she had a bit of a tiff with Fudge and had insulted Umbridge to her face, a dangerous yet bold move for anyone, she wasn't exactly _everyone's _favorite person. While Hogwarts may be the safest place in the Wizarding World, that didn't mean everyone upheld the same morals or beliefs.

Amy snorted, burrowing herself into his arms. "Me? Do something stupid?"

Charlie sighed. "At least promise me you'll try and be a good girl?" Charlie begged her, tugging on a loose curl of her hair. "No pissing off Umbridge, right?"

Amy snorted again, pulling his hand out of her hair and interlocking her fingers with his. "Until you have to work with her every day for about ten months out of the year, Mr. Weasley," Amy told him, half teasing and half bitter, "You have no say in what I do to that Toad."

Charlie sighed loudly. "At least try?" he pleaded, his eyes wide. Amy pouted but nodded nonetheless.

"Fine, I'll _try_," she conceded. Charlie smiled almost gloatingly before pressing a kiss to her head.

"Just trying to keep you safe, Amy," he murmured against her soft curls. Amy grunted but used her hands to pull his arms around her tightly, loving the feel of his arms hugging her against his firm chest. A warm silence fell over the couple, and Amy reveled in the comfort provided to them by the warmth of their bodies pressed against each other.

"I'm going to miss you," Charlie breathed against Amy's neck, tightening his grips around her waist. Amy turned to face him, her hair falling off her shoulders to tickle Charlie's forearms.

"I'll miss you more," she protested, looking him dead in the eye. Charlie shook his head, leaning down until his lips were just a breath away from hers.

"Not possible," he contested before pressing his lips to hers, wishing the moment would last forever.

…..

The fire blared happily despite the earliness of the morning. Amy hoped to leave early, before Charlie was awake since he was due to start back at the Ministry that morning, and she didn't want him to be exhausted. Alas, she wasn't as quiet as she thought herself to be, and she found herself before the fire with her sleepy boyfriend, staring into the crackling flames. In the hand which wasn't clasped in Charlie's, Amy held the soot-like Floo Powder, which slipped through her fingers and onto the hearth of the fireplace.

Pursing her lips together, Amy turned to the man beside her. The corner of her lips turned slightly upwards at the sight of his mussed-up hair and sleepy blue eyes.

"It won't be long," she assured Charlie softly. "I'll go to work and you'll go to work and before we know it, we'll be back here. It won't be long." The promising look in her eyes encouraged Charlie to lean down and press his lips against hers.

"It won't be long," he repeated, and a bright smile spread across Amy's face. Squeezing his hand tightly in hers one last time, Amy stepped onto the hearth just before the fire. She threw down the powder into the fireplace, the flames turning a bright green in the morning light. Amy stepped into the fire now, green sparks shooting up beneath her feet. She raised a hand in farewell, her fingers waving slightly.

"Amy Wyman's office!" she proclaimed, her eyes meeting Charlie's as she began to spin on the spot, growing smaller and smaller until… she was gone, and Charlie was alone in the apartment.

"It won't be long."

…..

The next day dawned dark and dreary, the air mixed with sleepy yawns and voices gossiping over holiday news. Amy emerged from her own room later than she usually would, still accustomed to sleeping in late as well as unused to waking up in a bed without Charlie's arms wrapped around her. Nonetheless, she rolled herself out of bed and readied herself for the day, pulling on some of her Muggle clothes. She knew it would piss Umbridge off, and even though she had promised Charlie she wouldn't, she sure as hell wasn't going to make the Toad's life easy.

She used the first day back from holidays to review the materials the students had learned in the beginning of the term, easing them back into their studies. It may have been awhile since she had actually been _in _school, but she remembered what it was like to be a student back from break. She knew it was hard and that the first few days were always the worst and she didn't want to fry their brains too early.

When the fifth years entered her class after lunch, it was quite noticeable just how much the start of school was affecting the students, especially a particular Gryffindor, who seemed as down in the dumps as she had ever seen him. From rumors she had heard, Harry's down spirits had something to do with a certain Potions teacher whom the teen now had to take Occlumency lessons with. Occlumency with a good professor was difficult enough, but with Snape? Amy shuddered at the thought. She wished him the best of luck.

Overall the day passed with relative easiness, but she expected the stability of Hogwarts to fall apart in a matter of days.

She was right.

It was the next morning with the arrival of the morning owls and _Daily Prophet_s that the things began to go to hell. Featured broadly across the front page of the slanderous newspaper were pictures of snarky and troublemaking looking wizards and witches, and captioned across the top of the paper in bold letters was:

**MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN**

**MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS "RALLYING POINT"**

**FOR OLD DEATH EATERS**

Amy practically choked on her morning juice (she refused to drink coffee; there was something about its taste that she just couldn't stand), shoving aside her plate so that she could spread the newspaper across her place mat. She knew exactly what this article was implying but that didn't mean she wasn't going to read the article; who knew what the Ministry was trying to conceal.

The article was short and to the point, and Amy knew this didn't bode well at all for Sirius's reputation, especially seeing as his reputation was as tarnished as his last name. She shook her head, rubbing her forehead tiredly before looking out into the sea of hungry students, hungry for gossip and news, issues of the _Prophet_ spread across their plates. Yet, she knew the _Prophet _would not be enough to satisfy their gossip needs, as apparent by the spread of the news of Hagrid's probation. It spread like wildfire accompanied with varying reactions, although most students (_cough _Slytherins _cough_) did not seem to upset by the news.

Amy made to stop by the staffroom after breakfast to see if she could find McGonagall or another teacher of the Order, but she was stopped by Sprout and McGonagall who were crowded outside the teacher lounge, whispering to each other. Sprout, upon sighting Amy, waved her over, her eyes wide with urgency.

Amy looked over her shoulders cautiously, and when she saw only students, she made her way over to the woman. She had barely reached the professors when a pink blob exited the door of the staffroom, and she froze. She had been able to avoid Umbridge for the past day or so, and she wasn't exactly excited to see the Toad, especially because just the sight of her made Amy want to set something on fire…preferably the witch's hair, but she thought that may be taking it to the extreme…just maybe…

Sprout and McGonagall caught sight of Amy's narrowed eyes and turned, their robes flaring just at their ankles, facing the Toad-Witch. McGonagall's lips pursed together thinly, nodding tersely in Umbridge's direction, while Sprout gave her a slight smile, just a mere resemblance of the witch's usual bright smile.

Umbridge waddled to a stop before the trio, trying her hardest to cross her arms across her chest but to no avail.

"Professors," she greeted brightly. "I do hope you are talking about your lessons or of something relating to your topics of teaching. After all, I would simply hate to place you all on probation for not abiding to Educational Decree Number Twenty-six. " She grinned evilly, her pointed teeth gleaming, as she sneered at Amy. "Or at least, I would hate to place you two on probation along with Professor Wyman," Umbridge proclaimed, gesturing to McGonagall and Sprout.

Amy clenched her fingers together tightly, ignoring the looks her co-workers shot her, biting down on her inner cheeks to prevent herself from cussing the Toad out.

"Educational Decree Number Twenty-Six?" McGonagall questioned through thinly pursed lips. Umbridge's leer broadened.

"Oh yes," Umbridge drawled happily, moving slowly around the other professors, waving her wand to summon a slip of paper. She straightened her shoulders before reading from the notice. " By order of the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts: Teachers are hereby banned from giving students any information that is not strictly related to the subjects they are paid to teach. The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-Six. Signed, Dolores Jane Umb-"

"So basically, you've created a rule made of complete bullsh-" Amy began, breaking off when McGonagall gripped her arm sharply. Amy bit her tongue, narrowing her eyes while Umbridge continued to grin.

"Well, it's all for the good of the students," she proclaimed brightly, "and I'm sure even you, Amy-" the teacher in questioned shuddered at the use of her first name-"care about the students."

McGonagall scowled and Sprout pressed her lips together disappointingly, their hate for the Toad radiating off of them. Amy made to speak up but the bell rang at that moment, and Umbridge simply raised her hand girlishly, waggling her fingers mockingly.

"Toad," Amy muttered under her breath.

…..

As Amy spent the next few weeks avoiding Umbridge wherever she went, things at Hogwarts began to crumble, starting first with the students' spirits as Umbridge handed out detention after detention and the stress of the looming exams was beginning to set in. That accompanied with Gryffindors discouraging Quidditch loss against Hufflepuff, the Hogwarts students desperately needed _something _to pick them up, and then… the _Quibbler _arrived.

Amy knew nothing about what was happening until the newest posting of Educational Decree Number Twenty-seven, and after that, everyone knew something had happened, something exciting, and it wasn't long before everyone knew exactly what was going on.

Harry Potter, the clever devil (although Amy suspected Hermione Granger had something to do with the 'clever' part), had used his free time to have himself interviewed by Rita Skeeter (who would not have been Amy's first choice for an interviewer). This interview, which had been published by the _Quibbler_, a newspaper which Amy had never had the… _pleasure _of reading, explained exactly what happened that night in June. It was such… a Gryffindor thing for Harry to do and many teachers showed their appreciation to the teen by showering him with sweets and house points.

While Amy was thrilled to have the real story of what happened the night You-Know-Who returned, what really made her happy was the reaction Umbridge had to the interview. She may have been even crueler, but it was… satisfying to see the Toad so frustrated.

Very satisfying indeed… if Umbridge remained this crazed for the rest of her term at Hogwarts, then maybe Amy's time apart from Charlie wouldn't be too horrible.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to leave comments, complaints, or anything else with the reviews!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	31. Chapter 30

**AN: **Here's the next chapter! Sorry it took me a while, but my spring break was just... too nice to do anything except sleep and read. Anyway, now that I'm back in school I find I am extremely bored, especially during biology and world studies, which are the classes that I wrote this chapter in! A lot of it is dialogue from chapter twenty-six of OOTP, just so you know! It's not that interesting and kind of short, but that's because I felt like I needed to put a few more chapters between the Charlie/Amy fluff. At least for now.

**Dedication: **To all those who have read my story, reviewed it, favorited it, and alerted it, thank you so much! Here's to you guys!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

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><p>Several weeks after the <em>Quibbler <em>incident, Amy found herself at her desk, grading one of many essays or at least trying to grade the essays. She had fallen asleep, exhaustion having over taken her, her face pressed against the smooth stack of parchment, her quill which resided in her limp hand dug into the table, creating yet another groove in the pock-marked top. She knew that she should be trying to mark the papers but weeks of dealing with students and Umbridge had finally caught up to her. She simply couldn't help herself for while her chair wasn't the most comfortable thing, her eyelids just couldn't remain open.

This was the first time she had been able to sleep peacefully for what seemed like days, her mind completely empty of anything and everything. That is until a scream broke through the silence of the night, shaking Amy awake as the voice echoed through the halls. Amy shot up, her eyes wide, her quill clattering to the floor as she reached for her wand. All was silent for several moments as Amy stared widely around her office as she tried to blink the drowsiness from her eyes.

"What the hell…" Amy trailed off as another shriek filled the air, this one lasting for several moments. The witch could hear the muffled sounds of students shuffling across the stone floors, no doubt in search of the screaming lady. Standing quickly, Amy hurried across her office, the soft carpet muffling the sounds of her steps. She threw open the door as the screams continued, seemingly resounding all the way through the school from the entrance hall. Students were rushing through the halls and towards the staircases, their voices merging together, all asking the same questions. "_What's going on?" "Who's screaming?"_

Amy quickly fell into step with the rest of the students, although she was able to push herself past several students, placing herself closer to the crowd of teens. It took but minutes before the curious witches and wizards made their way to the entrance hall, all of them converging with the other students who were already down there, none of them however moving from off the stairs. They stopped taking in the scene before them, and they moved as Amy shuffled through the crowd, making her way to the front of the bystanders. She froze though when she saw the pink-clad figure at the base of the steps, swallowing tightly when she realized that something very serious was happening.

Trelawney, a witch whom Amy had never really conversed with, in fact Amy had actually been trying to avoid her for a long time, stood in the middle of the hall. The eccentric witch's shoulders were hunched over in defeat, shaking with sobs that seemed to rack her body, and her appearance was that of one who had not slept for days. Hair unkempt, thick glasses askew, and her shawls and scarves slipping down around her small frame, Amy didn't think she had ever seen someone look more pitiful or distraught, and immediately, her heart went out to the witch, who quaked behind what appeared to be thrown together trunks.

"No! NO! This cannot be happening…. It cannot… I refuse to accept it!" the terrified teacher was crying, her eyes wide and brimming with unwept tears. Her voice catching and hiccupping with each word whether from tears or from the empty bottle of sherry in her hands, Amy wasn't sure. Trelawney tried her best to gain some sense of dignity or confidence as she stared down the Toad at the base of the stairs, yet she failed dismally.

"You didn't realize this was coming?" Umbridge laughed, her girly voice similar to nails on a chalkboard. She seemed to find the broken teacher an amusing sight. "Incapable though you are of predicting even tomorrow's weather, you must surely have realized that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable you would be sacked?"

_Sacked. She's sacking people… oh god… _She could hear Trelawney continue to howl chokingly. _I'm next._

"You can't! You c-can't sack me! I've b-been here sixteen years!" Her voice caught in her throat desperately. "H-Hogwarts is m-my h-home!" Amy's shut her eyes tightly as tears prickled at her own eyes, her heart clenched tightly in her chest as she absorbed these words. She clasped a shaking hand at the base of her throat, trying to soothe the rock of tears and angry words that were building up within her. _Sixteen years… oh god… What's two years compared to sixteen?_

"It _was _your home," the Toad corrected, her voice light as though saying it was a warm sunny day out, perfect for going swimming, instead of telling a teacher she had just lost her job _and _home. Amy's eyes shot open, watching as Trelawney sank slowly down into a puddle of scarves and skirts, tears racing each other down her drawn and mournful face. "Until an hour ago, when the Minster of Magic countersigned the order for your dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this hall. You are embarrassing us."

Rage filled Amy as Trelawney continued to sob, shaking and rocking back and forth whilst Umbridge simply looked at her as though the witch was a cockroach or a speck of dirt on a white rug. Irrationally, or maybe this time it was rationally, Amy broke away from the students, several of whom were crying with their teacher on the sidelines. She stepped down from the stairs, her steps echoing in the hall filled with students and the sobs of their teacher. Her breath was short and raspy, fueled by the anger burning within her, as she turned to face the Toad on the landing before the steps. If she was going to be fired, well then she was going out with a bang. Several if she had anything to say about it.

"If she's an embarrassment," Amy began, her voice calm despite the rage that filled her, allowing her to tower over Umbridge, "what does that make you?" The Toad cocked her head slightly, and Amy saw the slightest quiver in her simpering smile. "Taking pleasure out of others' pain isn't something to be proud of. Frankly, it's sadistic and makes you sound like a psychopath, which isn't necessarily the best thing to be. Especially," Amy spoke clearly, reveling in the fact that she was saying this in front of so many people. It seemed to empower her to continue on. "Since being taught by a psychopath isn't exactly for the good of the children?" She raised an eyebrow. "Right?"

Behind her, Amy heard the shuffling of more footsteps, followed by the soothing mutterings of McGonagall, who had taken it upon herself to approach the sobbing Trelawney and show her some sympathy.

"There, there, Sibyll… Calm down… Blow your nose on this. It's not as bad as you think, now… You are not going to have to leave Hogwarts…." Umbridge's face dropped drastically as she heard these and she scooted around Amy to peer at the elderly witch. Amy turned as well, noting that McGonagall had managed to pull Trelawney to her feet and was now patting the sobbing witch on her back, using a handkerchief to pat at her wet cheeks.

"Oh really, Professor McGonagall?" Umbridge asked, brushing past Amy, who glared at the back of the witch's head. "And your authority for that statement is…?" She trailed off, her voice flat and reproachful as she took several steps into the hall. She was attempting to stare McGonagall down, but she should have learned by now that the Tranfiguration teacher was not someone easily swayed by a mean look.

"That would be mine," a deep voice claimed from the large doors of the school, which had swung open allowing for the cool night air and mist to sweep into the hall along with the headmaster, who walked forward until he stood beside Trelawney and McGonagall. The two had settled themselves upon one of Trelawney's trunks, and Dumbledore placed an aged hand on the sobbing teacher's shoulder. Umbridge tried to stand taller, straightening her shoulders so as to appear as though she held some semblance of power when it came to Dumbledore. She failed terrifically.

"Yours, Professor Dumbledore?" Umbridge asked, her voice laced with a scathing laugh. "I'm afraid you do not understand the position." She plunged her hand into her robes, pulling out a scroll of parchment from her pink clothing. Honestly, who was that much pink to work? "I have here an Order of Dismissal signed by myself and the Minister of Magic." The scroll remained tightly rolled as she used her hand to gesture to one of the notices hanging before the entrance of the Great Hall, just feet behind them. "Under the terms of Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts has the power to inspect, place upon probation, and sack any teacher she – that is to say, I – feel is not performing up to the standard required by the Ministry of Magic. I have decided that Professor Trelawney is not up to scratch." She took a moment to breathe here, sniffing delicately. "I have dismissed her." She looked briefly over her shoulder to Amy who stared passed the witch in what she hoped to be an impassive manner. Instead, Amy chose to look at Dumbledore, who simply smiled, looking down at the sobbing Trelawney before back at the pompous Toad.

"You are quite right, of course, Professor Umbridge," Dumbledore agreed, his voice light yet firm, as he chose his words carefully. "As High Inquisitor you have every right to dismiss my teachers. You do not, however, have the authority to send them away from the castle. I am afraid that the power to do that still resides with the headmaster." This announcement, which seemed to startle Umbridge, was accompanied by a small, polite bow on Dumbledore's behalf. "It is my wish that Professor Trelawney continue to live at Hogwarts."

Trelawney hiccupped now, looking up with wide, watery eyes. "No – no, I'll go, Dumbledore! I sh-shall l-leave Hogwarts and s-seek my fortune elsewhere-" Her voice was trembling despite her attempts to sound confident. Dumbledore however would have none of it.

"No," he insisted. "It is my wish that you remain, Sibyll." Immediately, McGonagall pulled Trelawney to shaky feet, urging her forward softly with the help of Sprout how had also broken away from the sea of students. The teen along with Amy, Umbridge and the rest of the faculty watched as the trio of teachers make their way wobbly up the staircase. Amy glared at Umbridge one last time, before brushing past her with as much attitude she could muster, whispering an incantation under her breath to levitate Trelawney's trunks. The witch spared a look at Dumbledore who maintained his pleasant smile, before following the other teachers back up the steps to Sibyll's tower.

Shakily, Amy felt her pulse begin to slow, the rage that had been boiling up inside of her slowly receding with each step she took away from the entrance hall. She wasn't sure exactly what happened right then or what was going to happen, but she was sure about one thing.

She was going to be fired.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>There you go! Hope you enjoyed! If you have any questions, comments, or concerns feel free to drop me a line either through review or PM.

Also, if you're interested to learn more about any of the characters in any of my stories, including this one, check out the top of my profile for a link! Thanks again!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	32. Chapter 31

**AN: **Here's the next chapter! I'm pretty sure it's the longest by far, but unfortunately, it's essential chapter twenty seven of OOTP. Yeah... sorry about that... but before I can get to the fun stuff, I have to get through the boring stuff...

**Dedication: **Happy Birthday Olathe and Sean!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing except Amy Wyman.

* * *

><p>It wasn't soon after Amy left that night that she learned of a new faculty member, a rather unique one when thought about. How often do you have the opportunity to learn from a centaur? Especially in a subject such as divination, something which the centaurs excelled at. Needless to say, Amy was quite pleased with this new professor, especially since many students seemed to take an interest in the class now, and it didn't hurt that Umbridge was extremely pissed off about the whole thing.<p>

As March droned on, Amy's classes were continuously watched by Umbridge, much to her dismay. It was hard enough to keep her students' spirits up without the Toad in the room, but with her in the room it was near impossible. Particularly when that Toad decided to _"hem, hem"_ her way into every conversation and lesson. She was a distraction, and while Amy had not taken on having her students read directly from the text book as Hagrid had done, the young witch's classes were much quieter than she was used to. Much quieter than was comfortable. It made Amy uneasy, and she had never felt uncomfortable in her own classroom before. She didn't like it, not one bit, but all she could do was wish that Umbridge would stop showing up to her class.

Alas, her wish didn't come true.

So, as the end of the term exams grew closer, much to the chagrin of the fifth and seventh years, Amy tried her best to boost her students' spirits in any possible way. It wasn't difficult to notice the sully attitude many of the students held, and since she had first arrived at Hogwarts, Amy began to think that the students were… unhappy. Even the Great Hall had grown quiet, withdrawn, and bleak. It really didn't help Amy's morning grumpies.

Yet, the Charms teacher was able to identify some semblance of something in some of the students. She wasn't sure what it was, hope or optimism, but it seemed as though there was a group of student whom were fueled by something at Hogwarts, and with Harry Potter being one of these students, Amy thought it may be a plan to rid the castle of the Toad. Or at least, she hoped it was.

…..

She had fallen asleep at her desk _again _one evening, her face pressed against the ungraded essays. She was afraid this was becoming a habit of hers, and not a pretty one at all, if the indentations of quills and paper on her face had anything to say. She had almost grown used to the silence which had fallen upon Hogwarts in the previous weeks, and while she may not like the reason for it, she certainly did appreciate the napping habitat. Yet, if there was one thing that didn't work well for taking naps, it was someone banging on your door.

Amy jerked up with a snort, rubbing instantly at her eyes, smudging whatever remained of her little make-up. She was sure she looked like a raccoon though, whether it was from the make-up or lack of sleep, she didn't really care. Groaning, Amy pushed herself away from her desk, trying in her sleepy state to smooth the creases in her cheek as she approached the door to her office. She pulled the door open gruffly, ready to take points away or give detention to the student she suspected to be outside her door. Instead, Amy found herself standing before a very grim McGonagall, her lips pressed together so firmly that it appeared as though she had no lips at all. Immediately, Amy sensed something was wrong, that something had happened, and she straightened her shoulders in an attempt to appear more awake.

"Professor," Amy began, swallowing to try and fix her dry mouth, "is there something I can help you with?" She hoped that perhaps McGonagall had simply knocked on the wrong door so that she could get back to slee- grading papers, but alas, the witch nodded, sighing somehow through her pursed lips.

"We have been requested to join the headmaster in his office," the deputy headmistress informed her through clenched teeth. Amy looked over her shoulder at the pile of papers untouched except for a small pool of drool, before stepping into the drafty castle corridor. She shut the door behind her, and when a soft snap resounded through the empty hall, McGonagall made her way down the shadowed corridor.

The older witch's lips pressed together even more tightly, and she jerked her head briskly, gesturing for Amy to follow her, which she did, albeit reluctantly. Together, the witches made their way through the hall, the clicking of their heels against the stone the only noise echoing up through the school. Still groggy, Amy brushed under her eyes, attempting to wipe away whatever may have been smudged as they neared the gargoyle leading up to Dumbledore's office. She must not have tied the laces of her shoes, or perhaps they had come undone, for she stumbled over her feet, sprawling across the dusty floor with a plop. She laid there for a moment, hating herself for making a fool out of herself in front of the deputy headmistress, before struggling to her feet. Her front was covered in dust, and she was sure she would have a bruise somewhere the next day. Darn those stone floors.

She turned to McGonagall smiling sheepishly as she shrugged her shoulders. "Woops," she muttered lightly, in an attempt to seem positive, brushing her hair out of her face to create some attempt at a put-together appearance. McGonagall shot her a look, one that sent a shiver of fear through the girl, who vowed right then and there to never _ever _say "Woops" in front of the teacher again. The Transfiguration professor allowed her eyes to look briefly at Amy's grime covered clothes before turning back to the gargoyle. Amy took her chance as the other professor pronounced the password to wipe desperately at her clothes, trying to regain whatever dignity she could from her fall. She stopped her flustered attempts when the gargoyle spun away to reveal the turning staircase that lead to Dumbledore's office.

The two witches stepped onto the rotating staircase, careful to not brush up against the other so as to not push them. Amy glanced over at McGonagall, wringing her hands partly due to nerves and partly due to her budding impatience. She shuffled her feet against the stones as her fingers fought against the others in a flurry. It was all she could do not to start whistling.

"Professor, what on earth am I doing here?" Amy finally broke, fidgeting as the older teacher turned to her. "Has something happened?" Amy's voice was laced with worry as the staircase shuddered to a stop, the door to the headmaster's office standing dauntingly before them.

McGonagall sighed, brushing away a stand of hair that had somehow found its way out of her tight bun. That alone was enough to strike a sense of fear into younger witch, who had only seen her co-worker look flustered or disheveled on one other occasion and… Amy shuddered remembering the night of the Third Task. The witch glanced over her shoulder to assure herself that the two witches were alone on the staircase, no dementor insight and thus no chance that the echoes would reenter her mind. Sure, she had talked to Michelle over the summer of what she had seen and everything that she still felt to this day, and while her friend had attempted to convince her it was not Amy's duty to feel this way, that didn't mean she believed it. Amy pulled herself away from these thoughts, trying to burrow them away again as McGonagall began to speak.

"Yes, Wyman," the professor announced quietly, "something has most certainly happened." The older professor stared stonily ahead, sighing heavily once more before taking several steps forward. Amy hesitated knowing she could get away if she wanted to. She could probably outrun the witch, if she didn't trip of course, but she wasn't so sure she could outrun her spells…

Amy took a hesitant breath, nervous as to what may wait behind the wooden door. When McGonagall didn't hear Amy follow after her, the teacher looked over her shoulder, beckoning the younger girl forward with a jerk of her aged head. Amy swallowed before mustering up whatever courage she could find within herself (she was the _Ravenclaw _head for a reason (aside from the fact that McGonagall was the Gryffindor head)) to force herself to walk the distance between the staircase and the door. As her feet left the stairs, the grinding of stone on stone filled the small space as the staircase began its descent back down, and she froze, her fists forming tight yet shaky balls.

She wasn't sure what she was afraid of; after all it wasn't like it had been Umbridge that had awoken her by pounding on her office door. No, it had been McGonagall, sweet yet stern, Order of the Phoenix member McGonagall. Plus, Amy doubted Umbridge would fire her in the privacy of the headmaster's office, oh no. Amy was sure her sacking would be accompanied with fireworks of some sort.

Yet, when the door swung open to reveal the office before her, Amy was rather surprised to see that Umbridge was not one of the people waiting within. She was sure Umbridge was somehow related to the reason she had been dragged from her nap, and yet the closest thing to the Toad within Dumbledore's office was in fact Amy's _favorite _Minister of Magic, Fudge.

McGonagall waited patiently until Amy entered the office before shuffling into the room, closing the door with a snap which echoed around the space. One would think that a room with oh… Seven people, miscellaneous whistling nick-nacks and every portrait of a Hogwarts headmaster ever would be brimming with noise, and yet, a library at night would be louder than Dumbledore's office at that very moment.

Whilst McGonagall chose to move across the office to stand near the headmaster, clearly taking her position as deputy headmistress into consideration, Amy chose to settle herself against the wall just near the one of the many bookshelves. While she may not have been able to escape the looks of contempt she was receiving from Fudge, her stand point certainly gave her the opportunity to observe the others who had taken up residence in Dumbledore's thinking space.

Fudge stood atop the hearth of the fireplace, rocking on the balls of his feet like a young boy, while his fingers twiddled madly together. In between shooting her frequent looks of contempt, Fudge smirked, not at all sly in his smug look. As she had crossed the room, Amy took note of the two tall and well-built men by the door, flanking the piece of wood like bodyguards. She refrained from smiling at the guard she recognized as Kingsley, understanding from the impassive look on his face as he too surveyed the room that if Fudge caught onto any look of recognition between the two there would be hell to pay. Instead, Amy allowed her gaze to pass briefly over her fellow Order member and onto the red head sitting in the corner of the office. Her stomach had flipped upon catching sight of the Weasley red hair, her thoughts immediately flying to Charlie, filling her with a sense of hope which was quickly dashed as she took in the horn-rimmed glasses and pompous expression. It was not Charlie as she had first thought but instead was the Weasley she had only spoken to once before, Percy. It had been more than a year since she had spoken to the red-head as she hadn't made time to converse with him at any of the tasks after the Yule Ball, and he hadn't been at a single Order meeting despite the fact that his entire family participated in some way. She suspected this had something to do with the fact that he had abandoned his family during the past summer.

Before she needed to restrain herself from somehow hexing Percy, the door to Dumbledore's office shot open, revealing a smug Umbridge whose talons were latched into the shirt of one Harry Potter, who didn't waste a moment to pull himself away from the sneering Toad, shrugging his shoulders so as to adjust his shirt back into position. The door closed behind the duo, and all the attention in the room fell upon the teen.

"Well, well, well, well," Fudge taunted, his face a mask of smug satisfaction, his fingers finally resting as he clasped them together. Amy took pride in the look of pure hatred that crossed Harry's face, before she looked down at her feet, shuffling them slightly against the carpet. She wasn't sure why she was here, so until she did; it was probably in her best interest just to listen, no matter how much she may want to say something. Especially seeing as anything she would have to say would be sarcastic and impertinent. There was no doubt about that.

"He was heading back to Gryffindor Tower," Umbridge cackled excitedly, obviously taking pleasure out of the rather awkward situation. "The Malfoy boy cornered him." Fudge took a moment to praise the Slytherin, claiming how he would be sure to inform the other boy's father of his deed before turning his attention back onto the teen in the middle of the room.

"Well, Potter… I expect you know why you are here?" A moment of silence settled across the small space as the boy took a moment to contemplate his answer.

"Yeh-no." Amy peered up through her bangs at Harry, biting her cheek to prevent a smile from crossing her face. The situation wasn't very funny, but the look on Fudge's and Umbridge's face was.

"I beg your pardon?" Fudge demanded, taking a step forward. It was all Amy could do not to say, "Please don't beg."

"No," Harry repeated, this time with a shake of his head, his shaggy hair brushing across his forehead.

"You _don't _know why you are here?" Fudge pressed on, looking earnestly at Harry who stared back at him blandly.

"No, I don't."

Amy could hear the scratching of a quill against parchment which she took to be Percy taking diligent notes of the simply _enthralling _interrogation. All she had learned so far was that Fudge sucked at keeping his face void of emotions, especially the scathing and incredulous ones.

"So you have no idea," Fudge continued, "why Professor Umbridge has brought you to this office? You are not aware that you have broken any school rules?" Amy was actually impressed by the evident sarcasm in the Minister's voice. She was surprised he knew how to use it.

"School rules?" Harry asked looking surprisingly innocent and calm for a boy who was being questioned by Ministry officials. "No."

"Or school decrees?" Fudge was getting angry now, his face turning a lovely shade of red.

"Not that I'm aware of."

"So it's news to you, it is, that an illegal student organization has been discovered within this school?" Fudge's voice was shaking now, and Amy was surprised that Fudge didn't explode right then and there his face was so red. At least he was still near enough to the fireplace that they could sweep his ashes right in.

"Yes, it is," Harry assured the Minister, his face that of a sweet six year old rather than someone who had apparently been caught in the act. Although the act of what, Amy was still not sure.

"I think, Minister," Umbridge broke in, surprisingly for the first time, slinking her way forward just slightly, "we might make better progress if I fetch our informant."

'_Now, we're getting somewhere,' _Amy thought as the Toad waddled from the room, leaving the room in silence once more. Harry remained in the middle of the room, staring straight ahead and yet not at anyone else. This action was copied by the others in the room as well, all of them waiting for the tell-tale sounds of the Toad shuffling back into the room, this time accompanied with another student whom Amy recognized to be from the Ravenclaw house.

'_So that's why I am here,' _Amy thought, pursing her lips together as Umbridge led Marietta Edgecombe, a sixth year Amy recognized to be as a friend of Cho Chang and was rather giggly if Amy did say so herself. The teen had attempted to pull her robe past her face, using her hands to hold the cloth over her nose and mouth so that only a pair of eyes peered at the adults in the room. Amy cocked her head, watching as Umbridge settled the girl next to her peer.

"Don't be scared dear," Umbridge urged in a voice she probably thought to be soothing but to Amy sounded as pleasant as nails on a chalkboard. "Don't be frightened. It's quite all right, now. You have done the right thing." Amy began to pull away from the conversation, wishing they would get back to the matter, whatever that matter may be, on hand. She better not have been awoken just to hear Umbridge brag about her students to the Minister. Especially seeing as Umbridge still wasn't really teaching. Really she was just babysitting several hundred students at different periods of the day. A sixteen year old could do the same thing and probably do it better.

"Galloping gargoyles!"

Amy snapped back into attention as Fudge jumped, stepping back into the fire, cursing and stamping as smoke drifted into a cloud around him. The teacher looked around the room, trying to regain her senses when her attention fell onto Marietta who let out a great wail before attempting to pull her robes over her face once more. Yet, her shaky hands were too slow to hide the word "SNEAK" spelled across her face in neon purple blemishes. Amy would've laughed if it had not been a terribly inappropriate time to do as and if the girl whose face was pocked wasn't near to tears. Harry too looked surprised at the word which disfigured the girl's face yet he was better at restraining his emotions.

"Never mind the spots now, dear," Umbridge demanded, trying to brush the girl's hands away. "Just take your robes away from your mouth and tell the minister-"

Marietta protested with a sob, stepping away from her professor so as to place distance between the two and prevent her from forcibly pulling the girl's hands away from her face.

Umbridge sighed, shaking her head in frustration. "Oh, very well, you sill girl, I'll tell him," Umbridge snapped, turning back to the Minister, her face now a mask of sweetness. "Well, Minister, Miss Edgecombe here came to my office shortly after dinner this evening and told me she had something she wanted to tell me." She took a breath, her smile growing larger. "She said that if I proceeded to a secret room on the seventh floor, sometimes known as the Room of Requirement, I would find out something to my advantage."

Amy's thoughts raced back to earlier in the term, remembering her walks and the students who attempted to sneak passed her office towards the seventh floor. She turned her attention back to Umbridge as the witch continued.

"I questioned her a little further and she admitted that there was to be some kind of meeting there. Unfortunately at that point this hex came into operation and upon catching sight of her face in my mirror the girl became distressed to tell me anymore."

If there was one thing that surprised Amy in Umbridge's spiel it was that the witch had a mirror. She had seriously doubted that was possible, what with the way the Toad dressed herself and that hideous bow she swore… Merlin…

Fudge now turned to Marietta and it was the first time Amy had seen Umbridge look anything _but _angry, sarcastic, or smug. "It is very brave of you, my dear, coming to tell Professor Umbridge, you did exactly the right thing. Now, will you tell me what happened at this meeting? What was its purpose? Who was there?"

Marietta didn't reply, instead choosing to shake her head fearfully, her curls bouncing around her shoulders.

Fudge turned back to Umbridge, impatiently tapping his foot. "Haven't we got a counterjinx for this? So she can speak freely?"

The Toad shook her head, saying something about how she hadn't managed to find one. Harry smirked for a moment before wiping the half-smile off his face. Amy bit her lip to restrain herself from smiling as well. It was evident Harry or at least one of his counterparts had something to do with Marietta's hex.

"You will remember, Minister, that I sent you a report back in October that Potter had met a number of fellow students in the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade – "

"And what is your evidence for that?" McGonagall now demanded, her lips still pursed together into a tight line.

"I have testimony from Willy Widdershins, Minerva, who happened to be in the bar at the time. He was heavily bandaged, it is true, but his hearing was quite unimpaired," Umbridge's voice was so thick with smugness Amy was surprised the words were not oozing from her lips like sludge. "He heard every word Potter said and hastened straight to the school to report to me – "

"Oh, so _that's_ why he wasn't prosecuted for setting up all those regurgitating toilets!" McGonagall laughed bitterly causing Amy to smile at the tone of her voice. "What an interesting insight into our justice system!" Surprisingly, McGonagall was fairly good at using sarcasm and sass. It was actually rather entertaining.

"Blatant corruption!" a portrait behind Dumbledore's desk cried out, shaking his fist furiously at Umbridge. "The ministry did not cut deals with petty criminals in my day, no sir, they did not!" The ex-headmaster's face was bright red with anger.

"Thank you, Fortescue, that will do," Dumbledore insisted quietly. Amy shot the portrait a wink and thumbs up.

Umbridge continued as though she had not been interrupted. "The purpose of Potter's meeting with these students was to persuade them to join an illegal society, whose aim was to learn spells and curses the Ministry has decided are inappropriate for school-age – "

"I think you'll find you're wrong there, Dolores," Dumbledore broke in, albeit rather politely. Everyone in the room turned to the aged wizard, their eyes bright either with curiosity or bewilderment.

"Oho!" Fudge announced, throwing his hands up into the air exaggeratedly. "Yes, do let's hear the latest cock-and-bull story designed to pull Potter out of trouble! Go on, then, Dumbledore, go on – Willy Widdershins was lying, was he? Or was it Potter's identical twin in the Hog's Head that day?"

"Eh," Amy said with a shrug, nodding thoughtfully. "Stranger things have happened." Harry shot the teacher a confused look as though just realizing she was in the room, which wasn't surprising seeing as she had been astonishingly quiet during this meeting. Fudge continued, rambling over Amy.

"Or is there the usual simple explanation involving a reversal of time, a dead man coming back to life, and a couple of invisible dementors?"

Percy laughed loudly, and Amy looked at the Weasley, her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Oh, very good, Minister, very good!" He laughed again, and Amy wondered how much trouble she would get in with the Ministry for hexing the red head. She wasn't sure if Charlie would be extremely please, but she thought he would understand. After all, the prat had basically disowned himself from his family. He certainly deserved a good kick in the rear.

"Cornelius, I do not deny – and nor, I am sure, does Harry – that he was in the Hog's Head that day, nor that he was trying to recruit students to a Defense Against the Dark Arts group." Amy peered curiously at the Headmaster as he continued to explain that Harry had in fact done all these things. Perhaps the greatest wizard of all time had lost his marbles.

"I am merely pointing out that Dolores is quite wrong to suggest that such a group was, at that time, illegal." Realization hit Amy, as her mind immediately shot back to her muggle history class on the American constitution, a rather odd term emerging from the depths of her brain. "If you remember, the Ministry decree banning all student societies was not put into effect until two days after Harry's Hogsmeade meeting, so he was not breaking any rules in the Hog's Head at all." Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, his fingers templed together, and Amy took this as her opportunity to speak up.

"He's actually quite right. Which is unsurprising of course." She smiled at the Headmaster who nodded in turn, before Amy moved forward a few steps to face Umbridge directly. It appeared the Toad hadn't realized the witch was in the room either. "I don't know if you know this Umbridge," Amy couldn't restrain herself any longer, pleased that she was actually going to be able to use some of the useless law knowledge that floated around her brain, "but Great Britain actually has something called an ex post facto law, which basically means that someone who commits a crime before a law has been made cannot actually be punished. Now, I know I'm making assumptions here, because we don't exactly have _real _evidence seeing as our eyewitness was and is a criminal, but even if Harry had joined together his buddies for a meeting at a rather dirty pub, you can't exactly expel him for that. _Especially," _Amy emphasized, her hands motioning randomly as she spoke, "since the Educational Decree wasn't set into place until two days _after _this meeting." She paused, glancing around at the people in the room who were looking at her as though she had lost her marbles along with Dumbledore's. "Just food for thought."

Dumbledore smiled gently at her as she settled herself back into her spot by the wall, crossing her arms over her chest. Umbridge's eyes were so narrow Amy suspected them to actually be closed, and Fudge and Percy looked as though they had just been hit over the head, which was a very satisfying thought with the way they had been behaving.

"That's all very fine, Headmaster," Umbridge started slowly, trying to regain a grasp on where her footing was, her crooked smile slowly returning to her face. "But we are now nearly six months on from the introduction of Educational Decree Number Twenty-four. If the first meeting was not illegal, all those that have happened since most certainly are." She looked pleased at the thought that she may have caught Dumbledore off guard, and yet, the Headmaster simply leaned forward so his elbows rested on his chair, looking politely at the Toad.

"Well," he began, drumming his fingers against the back of his hand, "they certainly _would _be, if they _had _continued after the decree came into effect. Do you have any evidence that these meetings continued?"

A cool breeze seemed to fill the office, and Amy shivered, rubbing a warm hand against her arm. She looked around the office expecting to see an open window of some sort, but there was none. Her thoughts were drawn away from the chill and back to Umbridge, whose face was broken in a simpering smile.

"Evidence?" the Toad chimed, her voice thick with a coy disbelief. She raised her hands as she continued, gesturing to Marietta. "Have you not been listening, Dumbledore? Why do you think Miss Edgecombe is here?"

"Oh, can she tell us about six months' worth of meetings?" Dumbledore asked, a childlike curiosity in his voice as he leaned forward. "I was under the impression that she was merely reporting a meeting tonight." Amy restrained herself from laughing, for while this was a very serious matter, a Dumbledore without the answer was a rather funny thought.

"Miss Edgecombe," Umbridge snapped, "tell us how long these meetings have been going on, dear. You can simply nod or shake your head, I'm sure that won't make the spots worse. Have they been happening regularly over the last six months?"

Amy blinked, turning to face Marietta who was still whimpering, her hands and robes pressed against her face. She looked up with fearful eyes at the faces which seemed to surround her in their abrasive stares. She seemed to shrink away trying to withdraw herself deeper into her robes. Umbridge spoke a few more coaxing words to the girl, urging her to do something. Which she did.

Marietta shook her head.

Amy leaned forward, her arms crossed over her chest as she cocked her head at the Ravenclaw student.

"I don't think you understood the question, did you, dear?" Umbridge's hideous bow seemed to grip even tighter to her head. "I'm asking whether you've been going to these meetings for the past six months? You have, haven't you?"

The Ravenclaw shook her head again.

"What do you mean by shaking your head, dear?" Despite the pet name, Umbridge's voice sounded as though she could rip the girl apart.

"I would have thought her meaning was quite clear," McGonagall broke in, her voice rough with hate. "There have been no secret meetings for the past six months. Is that correct, Miss Edgecombe?"

Now, Marietta nodded.

"But there was a meeting tonight!" Umbridge cried, her hands in balls. "There was a meeting, Miss Edgecombe, you told me about it, in the Room of Requirement!" The Toad seemed to shake with fury. "And Potter was the leader, was he not!" She hissed, pointing a finger at the fifth year, who was courteous enough to look affronted. " Potter organized it, Potter – _why are you shaking your head, girl?"_

"Well, usually when a person shakes their head," McGonagall supplied humorlessly, "they mean 'no.'"

"Unless of course Marietta speaks sign language which in that case," Amy trailed off, "No, even in sign language a shake of the head means no." She started to laugh dully, but stopped as Umbridge lunged forward, grabbing Marietta by the shoulders, pulling her around to face the girl. All Amy saw was a shaking of mass curls, before Dumbledore stood, wand raised, and Kingsley stepped forward from the shadows.

Umbridge stepped away from the Ravenclaw with a gasp, holding her hands close to her chest. Amy stepped forward, grasping the teen by her elbow and gently pulling her away from the Toad. She wrapped a loose arm around Marietta's shoulders, as Umbridge attempted to regain her ragged breath.

"I cannot allow you to manhandle my students, Dolores," Dumbledore thundered, his eyes flashing behind his half-moon glasses.

"You want to calm yourself, Madam Umbridge," Kingsley spoke up for the first time, drawing the attention of the room with his slow, soothing voice. "You don't want to get yourself into trouble now."

"For the good of the children, after all," Amy shot at the teacher, wrapping her fingers against the still Ravenclaw. Amy glanced at the girl, expecting to be able to see fear or _something _in the girl's eyes and yet… there was nothing. There were no more whimpers or sniffles, there was simply nothing.

"No," Umbridge agreed in a breathy voice, eyeing the others in the room anxiously. "I mean, yes – you're right, Shacklebolt – I – I forgot myself."

"Dolores," Fudge continued, obviously trying to regain the focus of the room, "the meeting tonight – the one we know definitely happened – "

Umbridge pulled herself up to her full height, swallowing deeply. "Yes, yes… well, Miss Edgecombe tipped me off and I proceeded at once to the seventh floor, accompanied by certain _trustworthy _students_-" _Amy refrained from snorting. She wouldn't exactly call _Slytherins _the most trustworthy students- they were sly after all. "-so as to catch those in the meeting red-handed. It appears they were forewarned of my arrival, however, because when we reached the seventh floor they were running in every direction." Amy smirked slightly at the thought of Umbridge waddling after the fleeing students. "It does not matter, however. I have their names here, Miss Parkinson ran into the Room of Requirement for me to see if they had left anything behind…. We needed evidence and the room provided…."

With a flourish, the Toad reached inside of her robes pulling out a piece of parchment with what appeared to be a list of names scrawled across the page. Amy craned her neck slightly in an attempt to read the paper as Umbridge handed the list of Fudge.

"The moment I saw Potter's name on the list, I knew what we were dealing with," she uttered carefully, the entire while maintaining her grimace of a smile.

"Excellent, excellent, Dolores," the Minister praised, the smile of a proud father on his face. He froze for a moment, cocking his head just slightly, and if it were possible, his smile grew larger. "And… by thunder…"

He looked up, his wide eyes full of childlike wonder. "See what they've named themselves?" Fudge demanded, holding the parchment out to the headmaster. "_Dumbledore's Army."_

Dumbledore raised an aged hand to grasp the list, gazing over the names. Amy was sure he would now look up with defeat but the wizard was full of surprises, for he looked up smiling.

"Well, the game is up," he declared with an air of admittance. "Would you like a written confession from me, Cornelius – or will a statement before these witnesses suffice?" Amy turned her eyes wide towards McGonagall, and for the first time, Amy saw fear in the other witch's eyes. Amy knew what this meant, the teachers of the Order had gone over this numerous times, especially in the past weeks, but Amy never thought… she didn't think it was possible for all the planning to actually take place… or at least, she had hoped…

"Statement?" Fudge echoed. "What – I don't - ?" He trailed off. Obviously his brain hurt too much from thinking.

"Dumbledore's Army, Cornelius," Dumbledore supplied helpful, smiling briskly. He waved the list in front of Fudge's face. "Not Potter's Army. _Dumbledore's Army._"

"But – but –" Realization seemed to dawn on Fudge. "You?" he uttered, his voice just above a breath.

"That's right," Dumbledore replied as lightly as though he was commenting on good weather, weather which the residents of Hogwarts were not experiencing.

"You organized this?" Fudge barely waited for Dumbledore's "I did" before barreling on. "You recruited these students for – for your army?"

Dumbledore shrugged slightly. "Tonight was supposed to be the first meeting. Merely to see whether they would be interested in joining me." He looked now towards Amy and Marietta, nodding at the younger. "I see now that it was a mistake to invite Miss Edgecombe, of course."

Marietta nodded at the sound of her name, and Amy shot her a concerned look, tightening her grip even further. Fudge glanced over at the duo before back at Dumbledore.

"Then you _have _been plotting against me!" Fudge declared, his tone oddly joyful for someone who had just been told he had been plotted against.

"That's right," Dumbledore agreed.

"NO!" Harry protested, stepping forward with wide eyes. It seemed as though it had finally struck him what Dumbledore was doing, and he wanted it to stop, despite the looks the Order members shot him the second he spoke up. "No – Professor Dumbledore!"

"Be quiet, Harry, or I am afraid you will have to leave my office," Dumbledore commanded softly. The boy grew silent.

"Yes, shut up, Potter!" Fudge snarled, his eyes never leaving Dumbledore. "Well, well, well – I came here tonight expecting to expel Potter and instead –"

"Instead you get to arrest me," Dumbledore prompted. "It's like losing a Knut and finding a Galleon, isn't it?" Amy placed her free hand over her chest, trying to soothe the ache that was beginning to grow.

"Weasley!" Fudge snapped, turning to the redhead. "Weasley, have you written it all down, everything he's said, his confession, have you got it?"

"Yes, sir, I think so, sir!" Percy was practically bouncing in his seat he was so excited.

"The bit about how he's been trying to build up an army against the Ministry?" Fudge prodded. "How he's been working to destabilize me?"

"Yes, sir, I've got it, yes!" Percy exclaimed, holding his notes before his glasses gleefully.

"Very well, then," Fudge decreed, joy washing off the Minister in waves. "Duplicate your notes, Weasley, and send a copy to the _Daily Prophet _at once." Percy was already on his way out the door as Fudge continued. "If we send a fast owl we should make the morning edition!" The slam of Dumbledore's door spurred Fudge to turn to the Headmaster. "You will now be escorted back to the Ministry, where you will be formally charged and then sent to Azkaban to await trial!"

Kingsley and the other Auror stepped forward now, grasping for their wands. Amy swallowed nervously, pulling Marietta out of the way of the men and into the shadows. She wasn't sure what may happen, especially in the tension that seemed to be brewing, but she didn't like the looks in the officials' eyes.

Dumbledore, however, did not look the slightest bit worried. "Ah, yes," he began, cocking his head ever so slightly. "Yes, I thought we might hit that little snag." Fudge would have none of it.

"Snag?" he demanded uproariously. "I see no snag, Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore's face was a mask of pity. "Well, I'm afraid I do." Amy eyed McGonagall now, watching the teacher carefully for any sign of what they were to do.

"Oh really?" Fudge asked, his eyes wide with disbelief and his voice cocky. Yet, Amy could've have sworn she saw fear in the Minister's eyes.

Dumbledore nodded, stepping up from around his desk. "Well –it's just that you seem to be laboring under the delusion that I am going to – what is the phrase?" He paused as if to ponder the question. "'Come quietly?'" Amy was surprised he didn't snort in mirth. "I am afraid I am not going to come quietly at all, Cornelius. I have absolutely no intention of being sent to Azkaban. I could break out, of course – but what a waste of time." He waved his hand as though to brush the idea away. "Frankly, I can think of a whole host of things I would rather be doing."

Amy glanced around the room, taking in Umbridge's tomato red face and Fudge's imitation of a kindergartner. The Minister looked around desperately, gesturing madly at the other Auror who nodded slightly. He stepped even further forward, his hand grasped tightly around his wand.

"Don't be silly, Dawlish," Dumbledore almost cooed towards the Auror who froze in his steps. "I'm sure you are an excellent Auror, I seem to remember that you achieved 'Outstanding' in all your N.E.W.T.s, but if you attempt to – er – 'bring me in' by force, I will have you hurt you." Dawlish blinked, staring foolishly at the headmaster before back at Fudge.

"So," the Minister snarled, trying to regain his focus, "you intend to take on Dawlish, Shacklebolt, Dolores, and myself single-handed, do you, Dumbledore?"

Amy swallowed heavily at the thought of what may happen if there was some sort of duel. She would be fine, or at least she hoped she would, but as for Harry, who seemed to be in some state of shock, and Marietta who was still rather hollow on the inside, void of any emotions.

Dumbledore laughed slightly, a smile spread across his face. "Merlin's beard, no," he insisted. "Not unless you are foolish enough to force me to."

McGonagall stepped forward loudly, her hand searching in her pockets for her wand. "He will not be single-handed," she stated brashly, and Amy nodded in earnest, her own wand already in her grasp.

Dumbledore, however, would have none of it. "Oh yes he will, Minerva, Amy," he insisted, looking sharply towards the witches. Amy saw a flash in his eyes, and she retained herself from protesting, slipping her wand back into the waist of her jeans. Something….

"Enough of this rubbish," Fudge ordered, drawing his own wand. "Dawlish! Shacklebolt! _Take him!_"

There was a flash of bright light, a bang and a shudder. Instinctively, Amy grasped Marietta's robes, pulling her roughly to the ground as lights shot across the room, bouncing off of every reflective surface, which there was many of, around the room. Dust filled the air, and despite her closeness to the ground, Amy's lungs quickly filled with the dust. She coughed, burying her face into her arms as a way to prevent the soot from entering her air way again. Over her coughs, she could hear the breaking of glass and cries which were quickly followed by the slumping of bodies against the floors.

As the dust began to clear, Amy looked up with watery eyes taking in the office before her. Across from her, McGonagall was pulling Harry to his feet, Dumbledore moving towards them. Slowly, Amy clambered to her own feet dragging Marietta up with her.

"Are you all right?" Dumbledore questioned, looking between the teachers and students.

"Yes!" McGonagall said, huffing slightly. Amy nodded in agreement when Dumbledore looked to her and Marietta. With the dust now cleared, the others in the room were able to take in the destroyed office. Broken nick-nacks, glass shards were strewn across the floor, along with Umbridge, Fudge, Dawlish, and Shacklebolt who appeared to have been knocked out during the past few minutes.

"Unfortunately, I had to hex Kingsley too, or it would have looked suspicious," Dumbledore informed them, looking down at the four on the floor. "He was remarkably quick on the uptake, modifying Miss Edgecombe's memory like that while everyone was looking the other way – thank him for me, won't you?" He looked to McGonagall and Amy, who nodded their assent.

"Now, they will all awake very soon and it will be best if they do not know that we had time to communicate – you must act as though no time has passed, as though they were merely knocked to the ground, they will not remember –"

"Where will you go, Dumbledore?" McGonagall pulled in. "Grimmauld Place?"

"Oh no," Dumbledore admonished grimly. "I am not leaving to go into hiding." He looked down at Fudge. "He will soon wish he'd never dislodged me from Hogwarts, I promise you…."

Amy breathed heavily, wishing she could say something, anything to the man who had acted as a mentor to her, believing in her, and placing so much trust in her that it was almost nauseating, and yet, Amy was unable to find the words. Dumbledore, sensing her frustration, placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. He nodded slightly and Amy shook her slightly, looking back towards her feet.

"Professor Dumbledore…." Harry started, drawing Dumbledore's attention to the boy. Harry too seemed at a loss for words, guilt obviously setting into his conscience.

"Listen to me, Harry," Dumbledore cut in, glancing at the figures on the floor, "you must study Occlumency as hard as you can, do you understand me? Do everything Professor Snape tells you and practice it particularly at night before sleeping so that you can close your mind to bad dreams – you will understand why soon enough, but you must promise me –"

Dawlish groaned, moving slightly on the floor, and Dumbledore's hand shot forward, grasping Harry's wrist.

"Remember – close your mind – "

Harry flinched ever so slightly as Dumbledore tightened his grip. Dumbledore stopped for a moment before continuing.

"- you will understand."

Fawkes circled the office, and with a flash, Dumbledore grasped the phoenix's feathers and disappeared just as Fudge pushed himself up.

"Where is he?" Fudge demanded, looking furiously around him. "_Where is he?"_

"I don't know!" Kingsley cried, jumping to his feet as well, obviously perplexed as to what had just happened.

"Well, he can't have Disapparated!" Umbridge snarled, struggling to pull herself up by the desk, her stumpy legs wobbling beneath her. She whipped around, stumbling on her heels as though Dumbledore would pop out from behind a bookshelf.

Instead, the Toad followed Dawlish and Kingsley towards the stairs, following after the belief that Dumbledore had left via the steps. Fudge made to follow them but paused looking towards the Hogwarts students and faculty.

"Well Minerva, Wyman," Fudge declared, pulling at his robes like a snob, "I'm afraid this is the end of your friend Dumbledore."

"Right," Amy agreed, nodding her head sarcastically, "because being disliked by Ministry officials is really going to stop Albus Dumbledore."

Fudge pretended not to hear her, instead choosing to glare around the office at the scornful headmasters and broken shelves and ornaments.

He looked over his shoulder, glancing at the dull Marietta and torn-up Harry. "You'd better get those two off to bed," he ordered at Amy and McGonagall. Amy glared at his head, wrapping an arm around Marietta's shoulder as she led the girl to the door, followed by McGonagall and Harry.

The second the door closed, Amy sighed, shutting her eyes in despair. She rubbed her forehead tiredly, wishing desperately that she was back in her office, sleeping or grading, whatever she didn't care. She just wished she wasn't there at that moment. She took a breath in, opening her eyes to look at the three in the small space with her.

"I guess I better get this one to the infirmary?" Amy declared, looking at the dazed Marietta. She smiled slightly at Harry who looked forlornly at her. "Try and stay out of trouble on your walk back, yeah?"

…..

**BY ORDER OF**

**THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC**

**Dolores Jane Umbridge (High Inquisitor) has replaced Al-**

**bus Dumbledore as Head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft**

** and Wizardry.**

_**The above is in accordance with**_

_**Educational Decree Number Twenty-eight**_

**Signed:**

**Cornelius Oswald Fudge**

**MINSTER OF MAGIC**

…**..**

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Hope you all enjoyed! If you want to know more about my characters, check out the link at the top of my profile. Or not, I really couldn't care. Comments, questions or concerns? Feel free to review or PM me!

Signing off,

WiseGirl

P.S.

This chapter marks the first time any of my stories have gone over 100,000 words... that's pretty freakin' exciting, so thank you all so much!


	33. Chapter 32

**AN: **Hey everyone! Here's the next chapter! I wanted to post this especially today, because it...is... INTERNATIONAL HARRY POTTER DAY! I have been waiting for this day for a long time, and I am so glad it's finally here! So, in honor of dear J.K. Rowling and all of her characters, here is the next chapter!

**Dedication: **To the world of Harry Potter!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

* * *

><p>The news of Umbridge's abrupt rise to power was triumphed by only one thing: the flight of Albus Dumbledore. Every rounded corner featured a new tale on what had happened the night before, each more maniacal than the last. It would have been funny were it not for the fact that Umbridge had essentially appointed herself headmistress of the school, taking charge of anything and everything, and had appointed students to a new form of government within the castle. It was all Amy could do not to take points off of the Inquisitorial Squad members for their incessant smugness and habit of taking as many points from the other houses (that is all of the houses that weren't Slytherin) as they could.<p>

Whilst the students attempted to wrap themselves around what they believed really happened in Dumbledore's office, the teachers focused more on what on earth they were to do now that their worst nightmare was in charge of the school. McGonagall believed that they should go about their business as per norm so that to try and maintain some form of stability for the students whilst rejecting Amy's idea of simply locking Umbridge in a closet without her wand numerous times. Amy was very much disappointed.

At times, Amy had considered sending a letter to Charlie but had resisted knowing that there was the possibility of the message falling into the wrong pudgy, ring-laden hands. She couldn't even Floo him because the Toad had set up perimeters on the fireplaces. She hated to say it, but she was growing antsy in-between being away from Charlie and not knowing when she would be sent away from Hogwarts. Instead, Amy had put her writing into something that wouldn't get her in as much trouble. She wrote her mom. She knew that the woman would become frantic if she didn't receive some form of contact from her youngest. Amy may be a fully grown adult witch, and she may have attended one of the best magical academies of America, which basically meant that she could defend herself with a wooden stick, but she would always be her mother's baby. This was also most certainly used against her via her siblings.

In her letters, the witch explained her her mom how while there were many...changes going on in the Wizarding World as well as at Hogwarts, Amy was doing great and was having the time of her life. She didn't think her mom needed to know about Voldemort, the Death Eaters, or the fact that it was very likely that she would lose her job within the next few days. That would simply freak her out, and there was nothing worse than a frazzled Wyman Momma. Instead, Amy talked about her students, how she hoped they did well in their nearing exams, and how there was a newly appointed principal of the school. She explained how curious she was to see how the headmistress would reform the school, although for better or worse Amy didn't specify.

And while Umbridge was still very much upset about Dumbledore's escape and the fact that she couldn't get back into the headmaster's office the previous night (a tale which had made its way around the school via the portraits and had featured a red faced, stomping Umbridge), the Toad seemed to be mighty pleased with herself. Each time Amy caught sight of the pink-donned witch, she couldn't help but notice the sneering smile as well as the look of contempt which was shot at her. Amy suspected that Umbridge was planning her demise bit by bit, and as for when and where, Amy couldn't exactly be sure, although she suspected it to be soon and thus had immediately commanded herself to enjoy the castle with whatever time she had left.

She didn't realize how little that time was.

It started during lunch. Amy had settled herself into a seat at the front table, being sure to pick a chair furthest from the headmaster's chair, which she suspected Umbridge would claim. Upon first entering the hall, the teacher had immediately noticed the tension brooding between tables along with the heated glares shot towards the Slytherin table where Malfoy and his buds had taken court. What Amy did not notice were the Weasley Twins nestled into a niche in the wall, whispering earnestly to each other, hand motions and all. Instead, the teacher had attempted to try and complete some of her work that day (mostly work she had not finished the night before) and had settled a stack of essays before her, pen at the ready. Yet, it seemed as though there was _something _at Hogwarts which really did not want Amy to grade those papers.

The second her pen had touched the parchment, the hall seemed to explode in a blazing cloud of color. Students screamed as dust and sparklers filled the air, the tables shaking so much that plates and goblets rattled in their spots before crashing to the floor in a cacophony of smashing metals. Amy stood up, pulling her wand from the sleeve of her sweater. She pointed it at the ever growing cloud of smoke and ash, preparing to vanish whatever source of evil may come bursting out when sparklers erupted from the center, spilling out of the soot and into the Great Hall. They exploded midair, the walls of the hall bright in a mixture of colors. Vibrant blues, sizzling reds, and bursting greens all reflected against the gray of the hall. They bumped into each other, exploding even more greatly, before bouncing off of the walls and tables. They spun about the room, never fading, as the circled the awed students. The cloud of smoke began to disappear, a singed crate clearly labeled "WEASLEYS' WILDFIRE WHIZ-BANGS". It quickly was burnt to pieces by the continuation of exploding fireworks.

Amy couldn't believe what was happening. All around her, the fireworks seemed to be growing larger and more energized and, and with their new found energy, the sparklers seemed to be brightening up the students as well as the dreary hall. The students who had gotten over their initial shock and surprise, were now admiring the bursting colors, laughing as the sparklers spelled out words in the air. It was the first time in a long time that Amy had seen the teens happy, and she couldn't help but smile.

That is until the door to the Great Hall burst open revealing a steaming Umbridge and a wide-eyed Filch. Everyone stopped in their gawking, turning to face the obviously peeved Headmistress. She gaped hilariously, almost like a fish, her pudgy hands limp by her sides while her wand hung uselessly from her fingers.

The students stopped mid-laugh, turning to look at the Toad. They shared looks between each other, trying not to laugh as the sparklers continued to spell crude words in the air. Amy bit her lip, gathering up her papers as best as she could without drawing attention to herself. Slipping around the front table, Amy edged her way around the hall. After a particularly loud explosion from one of the sparklers, the teens gathered their own bags up, hurrying past Umbridge whilst trying to retain their snickers. Amy paused by the door, holding the fram with her free hand. She watched as Umbridge and Filch humorously yelped as the sparklers sped passed them, the two ducking to avoid being set on fire.

"Hurry, Filch, hurry!" Umbridge ordered, shakily straightening up. "They'll be all over the school unless we do something!" She raised her wand, pointing it at a particularly loud firework which was shooting towards the duo. Umbridge waved her wand, crying out, "Stupefy!" Yet, instead of stopping in its tracks, the enchanted sparklers split down the middle, the twin fireworks spiraling away.

Umbridge rushed forward, brandishing her wand as she attempted to stop another firework. Frustrated, she barked off an order to Filch, demanding that he not Stun the sparklers, as she rushed after the escpaing fireworks, huffing as she ran back and forth. Amy stepped away from the now empty hall, ducking to avoid a rather social firework.

"Looks like you've got your hands full, Umbridge!" Amy called as Umbridge waddled past, glaring at the younger witch. Amy raised a hand, waving her fingers teasingly. "I would _love_ to help, but unfortunately, my job doesn't include the darndest thing about enchanted fireworks."

Amy practically skipped away, sparklers bursting around her.

...

The entire day was accompanied with the sounds of crackling fireworks as well as snickers as students watched Umbridge waddle from hallway to hallway, huffing and puffing the entire way. Amy admitted quite blatantly to her co-workers that this was beyond amusing as the teachers watched Umbridge scuttle about in fear and frustration. Throughout the day, the witch could hear Umbridge and Filch rushing about in the halls, stumbling and tripping as they tried to chase down the enchanted firecrackers.

From what she had heard, the other teachers had finally taken Educational Decree Number Twenty-six to heart, and thus, instead of dealing with an interrupting firecrackers on their own, had summoned Umbridge to come and do the dirty work for them. And dirty work it was. In between classes, when Amy would step out to monitor the halls, she would sometimes catch a glimpse of the Toad, her hair mussed up and her face coated in black soot. Amy was surprised the witch had yet to pass out from pure exhaustion.

For the first time in a long time, the day passed in a mix of laughter an happiness, things which had become foreign to the castle in the past weeks...months. As Amy wondered about the corridors of the school later that even, she admired the fireworks which had finally found their way onto the grounds, now free to spiral and jump where ever they pleased. Amy paused, leaning against the frame of the window, her arms crossed. She sighed, closing her eyes and enjoying the breeze of the night air. It was still rather chilly, but the wind felt so nice compared to the roaring heat of the castle. The fireworks continued to burst, bright spots appearing before Amy's closed eyes.

Amy had always loved the nighttime. It was when she thought best, and some of her best memories had happened at night. She had met Georgie at a nighttime school function, along with Georgie's older sister. Amy's first sleepover had been at Georgie's, and she could still remember the two of them as six year olds laying in the same bed, pinkies twisted together in a promise. Her family took a road trip every year to visit her grandparents, and they always started at night. She remembered admiring downtown Chicago as though it were a magical place. Bright, flashing lights, the lake so near, and never a dull moment, Chicago had been her castle for a long time. Yet, it had been dark when Amy received the letter informing her that she was a witch, and the night had been very similar to this. An evening accompanied with fireworks, bright and happy, dimmed only by the shape of the owl flying towards her. It had been several sleepless nights that led Amy to choosing to follow her destiny. Her first kiss had been in the shadowy confines of her back porch one night (although she would never admit that to her parents). It had also been a night when she met Charlie and when she realized she had feelings for him, she had been dancing the night away in the Great Hall. She breathed in the fresh air happily, lost in her thoughts of contentment. She could have stayed there all night, simply basking in the warm glow of the sparklers... she would have...

BANG

Amy jumped, spinning around her wand raised (something which she seemed to be doing a lot of recently). She stumbled slightly over her feet, but steadied herself quickly. She wasn't sure what she was expected, but it wasn't the first time she had jumped today, seeing as the fireworks chose the quietest moment to erupt again. Yet instead of a Death Eater or man-eating spider throwing open the door, it was simply Umbridge. Amy would have breathed a sigh of relief were it not for the Toad's appearance, which though rather comical, was just a tad frightening with the look upon her face.

Smoke streamed from Umbridge's hair, seemingly from out of her ears. The Toad's face was scrunched together, and all of Amy's previous blissful thoughts were pushed aside, much to her disappointment. Umbridge held up a finger, shaking slightly as she pointed accusingly at Amy, who, in an attempt to appear at ease, simply looked down at the much shorter witch.

"You," the Toad uttered, her face the definition of utter rage. "This is your doing." She took a threatening step forward as the fireworks continued to boom and burst around the two witches, the night sky filled with color. Amy was pretty sure she heard the noise of a firework collide with the Whomping Willow but she didn't dare turn around. One can't really trust a toad, especially a steaming angry one.

Amy raised an eyebrow, looking down at the much shorter witch. "Me, professor?" she chirped brightly, barely flinching as a firework exploded just beside her, sparks tumbling down into her mussed hair. "What on earth have I done?" She smiled appreciatively, admiring the brightly colored sparklers buzzing around her head. She may as well have a bit of fun before bed.

"You've filled those kids' heads with destructive ideas," Umbridge hissed, her burnt bow trembling with fury. "You've taught them impertinence and disrespect to their… their betters!" She looked Amy up and down appraisingly, glaring at her through narrow eyes. "You've _corrupted _them." Amy suspected Umbridge would have spat at her feet if she weren't so distracted by the sparkling poppers which seemed to swarm her square shaped face.

Amy twisted her face together in thought, her eyebrows scrunched together wonderingly. "Really?" she questioned, tapping her chin in concentration. "I thought I was teaching them Charms." She shrugged lazily, reveling in the look of fury on Umbridge's face. "Well, to each their own." She spun on her heel, flipping her hair over her shoulder with as much teenager girl attitude as she could.

She was halfway down the hall when the words reached her ears. She almost missed them from over the exploding Weasley Works, but Umbridge's slimy voice wrapped itself around Amy, ice cold as it filled her with dread.

"You're fired."

Amy froze, blinking as the words set in, chilling her to the core. She clenched her fingers together, willing herself to believe that she had misheard what the Toad had said. She had to survive longer than this. It had barely been two days since Dumbledore was sent away, and now she was being thrown out? She couldn't let this happen, she refused to let this happen.

She turned slowly, head first, followed by her numbed torso and tingling legs. Her eyes narrowed on Umbridge who stared at her in return, eyes wide and her expression similar to that of a child. Amy's frozen expression seemed to urge the Toad on however, for the older witch's face slid into a sneer, her teeth pointed and practically oozing evilness.

"Pardon?" Amy uttered her voice but above a whisper.

"You. Are. Sacked," Umbridge emphasized each word quite clearly, her voice raspy in the cold hall. Amy stared at the witch, shaking as the coldness of Umbridge's words seemed to grab her guts, twisting and pulling at them.

Umbridge waddled forward a few steps, proud to show off her snarly grin the the younger witch. She was but a foot away now from the shaking Amy. "You're fired," the Toad hissed, her eyes bright with triumph. "As headmistress, I order you to pack your belongings. I want you out of my castle before the hour is up." Her eyes gleamed maddeningly. She looked Amy up and down, glancing over the fact that Amy continued to shake, although it was now fueled by the anger burning up in the pit of her stomach.

"I have my work cut out for me, and what a better way to start my days as headmistress of Hogwarts than to rid the school of riff-raff like you!" Umbridge laughed mockingly. "Although, it's not surprising that someone as unqualified and unworthy would be fired. Your kind really is the worst bunch of -"

Blood spurted from Umbridge's nose, the witch tumbling backwards, her arms waving like windmills. Amy's breathing was heavy and her hand ached, yet she simply shook her fist out. She ignored the sting in her knuckles, choosing to instead look down at the Toad whose hands were clasped over her nose, red leaking from between her stubby fingers.

She had given Umbridge an opportunity to take back what she had said, but when Amy feels her family has been insulted, even in the slightest, or even 'her kind', well, there really was no controlling her fists. She had two older brothers, of course she knew how to fight, and she knew how to fight dirty.

"You're a horrid bitch," Amy informed the sputtering witch, her voice surprisingly calm for someone who had just lost their job. "Just thought you ought to know."

...

Charlie sighed, leaning back and groaning as he stretched his hands in the air. He had been working the past few hours, hunched over the table of his living room as he went over mountains and mountains of paperwork. His fingers were black with ink and there were heavy circles under his eyes.

He had thought (or rather hoped) that by staying in England instead of returning to Romania, he would soon discover that working with the Ministry and their regulation an care of magical creatures to be just as thrilling as working with the actual creatures day in and day out. It obviously wasn't, and it didn't help that Amy was gone either. he could honestly say that he really did miss the witch, and while he also hoped she was being safe and smart at Hogwarts, he also wished she was back here with him.

A soft rap on his door pulled him from his thoughts. Wondering who could possibly be calling on him this late at night, Charlie rose slowly and cautiously from his seat, wand drawn and held aloft. He waved his wand, the lights of his apartment going out and casting the room into shadows and deep blues. He shuffled forward, careful to keep his steps quiet on the creaky floor. He knew it wasn't his mother or father - they would have Floo'd before calling on him- and he doubted it was Bill seeing as he had seen his brother but hours before. This really only left a surprise visit from either his boss or Death Eaters, and to be frank, he really doubted Dirk Cresswell would call upon the home of a lowly dragonologist.

He grasped the brass knob in his hand, readying himself to cast a spell in needed. He took a breath, trying to gather his senses from his sleep deprived thoughts, before wrenching the door open, his wand brandishing in the darkness.

Amy stared out at him from the hall, laden in a rather heavy coat, a messenger bag over her shoulder and several bags at her feet. Her face, though etched into an expression of surprise, showed trace amounts of tears. Charlie allowed his wand to fall to his side, taking in the sight of the witch before him.

"Hello," Amy croaked, a small smile on her face despite her voice being hoarse. "I got sacked."

Charlie stared at her a moment more, trying to absorb this information, but really all he could think about was the fact that Amy was on his doorstep _again _(and several months early if his calendar was correct). He shrugged a small smile crossing his face.

"Well, I suppose you can come in."

...

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>So there you go. Hopefully a bit more exciting than the last chapter! Hopefully...anyway, I may not be able to update for a bit. I've got rehearsal every day this week and then five interviews next week (ugh). Again, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and if you have any comments, complaints, or questions, feel free to drop me a line via review or PM!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	34. Chapter 33

**AN: **I am actually not very fond of this chapter at all, it kind of spiraled out of control and I'm not exactly sure where I was going with this, but I thought I should post something before the end of May... Excuse time: Research paper. 35% of my history class and an additional 10% of my English class. Sorry, but that took priority. It's due tomorrow... or today I guess seeing as it's 2:52 a.m... Anyway, research paper, Latin Olympics which was canceled thanks you NATO, so there went two months of mosaic creating down the drain. Also job interviews, international week, student government elections, and musical... so yeah.. I've been busy. BUT I have decided that I will update AT LEAST twice a month, which is more than other authors can say. I know that since the summer is coming up, I should be able to write/publish more, but with a potential job and whatever craziness I get dragged into with my (ohmygosh...) friends, I don't know when I'll be able to do anything. Anyway, here you go. Enjoy. OH. And I apologize now for any grammar or spelling errors. Spell and grammar check has decided to stop work on my computer. Oh technology, why does thou hate me?

**Dedication: **To my readers, reviewers, alerters and whatnot!... I mean... if those still exist for this story...

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

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><p>"I can't believe this! They've gone and gotten themselves expelled!" Molly cried, stomping her foot. "How could they have done this to me? To themselves?"<p>

"Molly," Amy started, leaning forward from her shadowy confines. She saw Charlie turn to look at her before quickly turning away. "The Twins weren't gaining anything from being at Hogwarts. Umbridge is a plague upon the entire school, and George and Fred are lucky they got out when they did. Dumbledore's gone, and I suspect Umbridge will come down upon the other Order members any day now. The Twins have been ready to get out of school for awhile now. They're adults, so you can't really do anything, can you?"

Molly gapped at the witch, her eyes wide and blazing with buried fury. "Can't do anything?" she gasped, a hand fluttering madly over her chest. "I'm their mother!" Amy clenched her fingers into fists, biting the inside of her lip.

"And you have two other children still stuck in school with the Toad, not to mention Harry and Hermione," the witch pointed out, raising her eyebrows as she leaned forward, placing her fists on the table. "It's them you should be worried about."

Molly glared at the witch, and the others in the kitchen shifted uncomfortable from the tension brewing between the two women. Charlie glanced between his mother and his witch, his Gryffindor bravery failing him at the looks of anger springing into the women's faces. He allowed himself to fall back into his seat, out of the line of the witches' sight.

"Are you saying I'm a bad mother, because I'm worried about my children?" Molly hissed, her eyes narrowed. Amy wouldn't be surprised if Mama Weasley jumped at her in an attempt to scratch her face off.

"No, I just think that you should focus more on what is best for the children still at Hogwarts than those who have left," Amy protested, her voice laced with thick anger. Her own mother had acted similarly to this when Rose had eloped, turning all attention on to her oldest and completely ignoring her youngest, and who at the time, had been most vulnerable and self-conscious. Amy knew what it was like to feel like the least loved, and she had hated it. Sure, she was rather melodramtic as a teenger and she had most definitely overreacted, but no one likes to feel unloved. She knew now that her parents and siblings loved her unconditionally, but as a semi-rebellious teenage witch, it didn't seem that way. She may not be a mother, but she was a sister. A sister to her brothers and her sister, and a sister to every one of those students at Hogwarts, the good and the bad, and she didn't want them to feel the sting she had growing up.

"Well, you don't really have a say in what's best for the children, do you Amy?" Molly demanded. "After all, you were fired for not knowing what was best for your students." The older witch's expression was one of triumph, and Amy froze, not expecting the witch's words to hit her so roughly. She bit her lip, biting down until she could taste blood on her tongue. Amy gave the mother a stern look before pushing herself away from the kitchen table, anger and hurt washing off of her. She spared Charlie no glance as she left the heated room. Her temper had been high the past few weeks, fueled by the detestion of the headmistress of Hogwarts. She had hoped that by punching the Toad, as well as having spent her days after termination with Charlie, she would have cooled down, yet she was still as angry as she had been in that hallway, and Molly had just added fuel to the fire. The witch had been lashing out at everyone because of Fred and George's decision to leave school, and the argument from moments ago had not been the first the two witches had had. Needless to say, Amy was not a happy camper in the slightest.

She had considered going back to back Chicago for awhile, at least for a bit so as to visit her parents, but she would be so ashamed to have to explain to them that she had been fired. It may not have been her fault, and she felt as though her parents would agree with her, but her pride stopped her from doing so. Her parents bragged about how she was a teacher at a top boarding school for British students, and she couldn't take that away from them, not after she had spent so much time away from her parents during her teen years. It wasn't even like she had a lot to show for it, because they were Muggles and she couldn't just go about shooting spells and charms about to please them. Her parents were so important to her, and she didn't think she or her wounded pride could live with their disappointment. She sighed, trying to steady her breath, knowing that she had acted irrationally. She leaned against the staircase, letting the cool emptiness sink into and surround her like a hug.

The closing door and shuffling of steps informed Amy of the approaching person. She opened her eyes just a smidge before squeezing them shut again.

"Don't," she muttered weakly. "I know, I know. I'm being stupid and need to calm down."

"Just a tad," Tonks agreed, leaning against the stairs as well. "But it's understandable." Amy snorted, attempting to burrow herself deeper into the empty hall.

"Besides, Molly's not really mad at you," Tonks pressed, nudging Amy in the side. The aggravated witch in turn opened an eye to glare at the bright haired witch. "She's just mad because she thinks the Twin have wasted their years of education. All that hard work teachers put into them, simply gone." Amy sighed, opening her other eye as she ran a hand through her hair.

"I know that, it's just that she should trust that they know what they're doing," Amy admitted. "They're smarter than they seem, and she has to remember that even with her older kids acting out, she needs to pay attention to her younger ones as well. Trust me on that."

The two witches fell into silence, letting the eerieness of the headquarters to wash over them and their thoughts. Amy could feel herself calming down, her anger soothed and not as inflamed. It would have been rather peaceful were it not for the crack that filled the rather silent house, followed by screams and swears from the kitchen. Amy and Tonks spared each other a glance before drawing their wands and rushing from the hall. Their thoughts were filled with the worst possible possiblities. Death Eaters, Voldemort, Umbridge…

The duo crashed through the door, and Amy's eyes darted about the cramped room, taking in Molly whose had was clasped over her breast, breathing heavily with a red face before moving onto Charlie who was shaking his head in frustration, his wand also drawn. Two new additions had been made to the kitchen, although it was no where near as bad as Amy and Tonks had thought.

Fred and George, the little weasels, had Apparated into the middle of the kitchen, manical and identical grin spread across their freckled faces. Amy groaned, falling back against the door while Tonks merely grinned, laughing brightly as her hair returned to its normal pink.

"Hello Mum!" The Twins said in unison, ignoring the look of fury that was beginning to regrow upon their mother's red face. They nodded at the others in the room. "Charles, Tonks." They stopped their glances on Amy. "Bloody great bruise you gave Umbridge, there Professor! Couldn't be more proud to know we've corrupted you!" Amy gave a weak smile and wave of her fingers, preparing herself for what she knew was about to come.

"JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"

The Twins' faces formed a grimace, shoulders up around their ears as they turned slowly to face their mother. The flickering of the fireplace gave the woman a threatening aura, and Amy was surprised the Twins didn't flinch at the deadly expression across Molly's face. It was enough to almost send Amy running from the hills, _again, _but she restrained herself, her fingers clutching into the worn wallpaper which adorned the kitchen.

"What on earth do you mean, Mum?" George began, holding his hands up in feigned curiosity. Fred followed his gesture.

"We can't come visit our lovely Mum from time to time?" Fred continued, his voice light and hopeful. They obviously believed this to be enough to escape from their impending doom, yet-

"NO YOU CAN NOT. ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU SHOULD BE IN SCHOOL!" Molly thundered, stepping towards her Twins with her wand pointed threateningly at them. "AND NOT BLUNDERING AROUND WITH THIS FOOLHARDY JOKE SHOP IDEA OF YOURS!"

Charlie flinched at his mother's high voice, turning his head slightly towards the corner in an attempt to block out her tones, while Tonks tried to occupy herself with some curious objects resting on the counter of the kitchen. Amy, in turn, looked down at her hands, engrossing herself with the shortness of her nails and the chipping paint. She had always hated listening to someone being scorned, and this was no exception. It was awkward enough that she had been the object of Molly's scorn but minutes ago, but now that it was focused upon her mayhem causing sons, as well as the fact that Molly was paying no attention to the others in the room, Amy found the atmosphere of the room was quickly becoming uncomfortable.

The Twins grew offended rather quickly, and soon enough a shouting match was raving between the sons and mother. Words like, "unsupportive", "irresponsible", and "disappointing" were thrown around between the three, their voices growing increasingly louder and louder, until Sirius finally made his way to the kitchen. His hair was even more so a mess than usual, and his eyes were bleary as though he had just been sleeping.

"OI!" he cried over the bickering family members. Everyone in the kitchen froze and turned to him, this being the first interruption of the feuding voices since their inception. "Shut the bloody hell up! If I have to live here, it may as well be in peace and quiet!" He eyed the redheads wearily, daring them to question what little authority he held. When none of them did, he shuffled across the small room to the pantry, pulling a bottle of either butterbeer or Firewhisky out, Amy wasn't sure. He plopped himself down at the table across from Charlie, taking a swig from his bottle before turning back to the still frozen Twins and redfaced Molly.

"Now," Sirius proclaimed in what Amy took as a calming voice, "What is going on?" The angry trio opened their mouths at the same time, but Sirius merely held up a finger. "Nope. Nope, nope. One at a time and no shouting now. You'll wake the house." He pointed his finger at Molly.

"These two," Molly proclaimed furiously, pointing at her Twins, "went and got themselves expelled! They think they can make a living on jokes and tricks, but they have to realize they must grow up!" She turned to face the boys now. "Pranks will get you no where in life! Surely, you understand that! You're smart boys, so why throw away your futures?" She looked at them imploringly, begging them to simply admit that she was right. Sirius took another chug of his bottle before turning to the Twins.

"You got yourselves expelled?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at the two. The glanced between eachother, before back at the ex-convict, nodding slowly. A wide grin broke out across Sirius's face. "Well, good for you two! It's about time someone stuck it to that Toad!"

The manical grins returned to the Twins faces, back where they belonged. "Well, if that bruise on Umbridge's face has anything to say," George began.

"It was Professor Wyman here who really stuck it to the Toad," Fred finished nodding at Amy. Sirius turned to face the younger witch, curiosity evident across his bearded face.

"Didn't know you had it in you, Wyman," he admitted, raising his bottle in cheers to her. Amy shrugged, sighing heavily.

"That's just the tip of the ice berg of things you don't know about me, Black," Amy informed the man. Her eyes flashed to Charlie for a fraction of a second, a soft smile playing at her lips, almost identical to the one on his face, before she looked back to Sirius, who took no notice of what had happened. He was staring precariously down the neck of his bottle, squinting so as to see if there was anything left at the bottom. He shrugged, lifting the bottle high above his mouth and shaking out whatever remained into his mouth.

Apparently, it was then that Molly decided would be the best time to push herself back into the conversation.

"Sirius, what if it were Harry who went and got himself expelled from Hogwarts? How would you feel then?" she demanded, her hands pressed into her hips, obviously determined to make someone see things her way.

Sirius didn't even turn to look at the older witch. "Harry already got himself expelled didn't he, Molly?" the man reminded her, rubbing his forehead tiredly. Molly sputtered a few intelligible words before Sirius interrupted her again. "But if he was of age and had decided that there was nothing left for him to learn at Hogwarts, then why shouldn't he leave? They may be young Molly, but that doesn't mean they're not intelligent or that they don't know what's best for them."

"But that's exactly my point!" Molly protested, gesturing at her sons. "They don't know what's best for them! They may be adults in the legal sense of the word, but their maturity, even combined, barely makes them eight years old!"

It was the Twins' turn to sputter indignantly at their mother.

"You wound us, Mum!" Fred cried, his hand praised in feigned pain over his chest.

"How could you be so cruel?" George continued, his own hand pressed to his forehead, almost as though he were about to swoon.

"I'm your mother," Molly reminded them. "I know all your tricks and games so don't even try to worm your way out of this. You are going back to Hogwarts whether you like it or not!"

"Pretty sure they can't do that," Amy broke in for the first time. "If it were me, I probably would have banned them from the grounds, but since it's Umbridge, they're probably not even supposed to be in England right now."

Molly thought desperately for several moments, searching for an idea. "Then-Then you'll get a job at the Ministry," she fumed, frustration at the lack of support seeping into her voice.

"Don't think that'll work out too well, Mum," George informed the frazzled mother.

"We already bought a store in Diagon Alley," Fred continued, leaning against the wall contently.

"Which also means," George drawled lightly, taking residence against the wall as well.

"That we're moving out!"

Amy winced. She really wished the Twins had packed all this on in one day. It was not going to be beneficial to anyone's health, least of all theirs. Especially after Molly got through with them.

The tears and blubbering came first, then the shouting, followed by the begging, which was closely followed by the swearing and even more shouting. Amy flinched as the screaming continued, praying that Molly would either pass out from lack of breath due to her excessive screaming or she would be Stunned by one of the others in the kitchen (this way was probably the most humane).

Her own screeches were broken only by the screech and fluttering wings of an owl which blasted its way into the kitchen. It had obviously gotten in through a _closed _window, if the glass shards in its feathers had anything to say. The inhabitants of the kitchen watched as it dropped a letter onto the wooden table before shooting out of the kitchen and up the stairs, obviously out the way it had come. Sirius barely spared a glance at the letter before getting up to grab another bottle from the pantry.

"It's for you, Wyman," he announced as he popped the cap off the bottle. He handed Amy a bottle for herself before settling down into his chair to watch the mother and sons who had started arguing again. This was probably the most exciting thing to happen to him in days, so Amy paid him no attention as she shuffled awkwardly across the small, tension filled room to retrieve her letter.

She picked the letter from off the paper clustered table and used her finger to tear open the edge of the letter. Carefully, so as not to spill her drink, Amy opened the scroll, unraveling it until she was able to read the familiar large and loopy letters scrawled across the paper.

_Amy-Boo,_

The witch glared at the childhood name, though she couldn't help the slight tug at her lips where a smile was starting to emerge. '_Oh Georgie,' _Amy mused, taking a swig of her drink. '_What do you have for me today?'_

_I hate to tell you this but I certainly have a bone to pick with you! What was up with not coming back for Christmas? We have a tradition and you just completely blew us off! What the heck is up with that? And, I know. I'm several months too late, but…uh…you know me…_

The letter trailed off slightly and Amy would've snorted at this were it not for the words just below these lines.

_The guy better have been cute._

She choked slightly on her drink, her eyes meeting Charlie's over the paper. He raised an eyebrow curiously at her, but she merely coughed, trying to clear her throat. Sirius eventually tapped her on the back a few times.

"Quiet down would ya?" he asked, his eyes never straying from the still fighting family members. "I'm trying to watch the show." Tonks from the corner of the room snorted.

"That's so creepy, Sirius," she revealed, her hair flickering between its bright pink and a black reminiscent of Sirius's. The man in turn merely shrugged. Amy nodded blearily at him before returning her attention to the letter in her hands.

_Just kidding love. I know you would never abandon your bestest friend-oh and Katherine and Michelle- for some guy. We all know you're going to end up some crazy cat lady in the middle of no-where who wanders around talking about magic and chickens. Speaking of chickens, we- that being your best friend (me!), Kathy, and Me-Shell- have decided to buy you a pet chicken. Fair warning, we are getting the craziest one we can find._

_The two of you should get along just fine, right?_

Amy shook her head, wiping at a stray bang which had fallen into her face. Her friends knew how much she hated chickens! She was absolutely terrified of them. She could honestly say that half of her nightmares were chicken related. It was an irrational fear, she knew that, but those beaks… the witch shuddered despite the heat of the room before turning her attention back to the letter.

_Anyway, I think I should stop stalling right about now. There is a reason behind this letter, and it's not to yell at you either. Just… Just don't freak out too much, okay? I've known you for what,twenty years now? I know you're going to want to jump out of your seat and come flying over here but please, just listen… or don't… I mean, you've never really listened to me before anyway._

Amy squinted her eyes curiously, re-reading the paragraph intently. '_What are you getting at Georgie?'_

_Anyway, here I go._

_Your dad's in the hospital._

The witch's heart nearly stopped and all the blood seemed to rush from her face. She could feel the cold rushing through her, starting as a tingling in her face and arms before turning to an ice cold burn. She barely comprehended the next few lines.

"..._visited…ambulance…heart….your Mom…. worry you…"_

The bottle slipped from Amy's hand, and she didn't even have the heart to mourn the loss of her drink before it smashed against the worn wood of the kitchen floor, shattering into a million tiny pieces. The kitchen fell silent, the residents of the room turning their attention to the ashen witch. Her hands were shaking slightly, the page trembling in her grasp, and her breathing ragged.

Her keen eyes darted uselessly around the page, taking no notice of the drink seeping into her worn Converse, as she tried to process her thoughts. The others in the room continued to stare at her but her eyes never strayed from the shaking parchment.

"Amy?" Molly asked, finlly breaking the silence. She glanced between her sons before back at the pale witch. "Amy dear, what is it?" She looked up now, finally realizing that the eyes of everyone in the room were upon her. She opened her mouth several times, but no words emerged. She looked down at the letter in her hands again, inwardly cursing its contents, before standing up suddenly.

"I have to go," she uttered, her voice hollow yet thick at the same time, before she rushed from the room. Tonks made as to follow her, but a loud crack informed those still in the kitchen that she had Disapparated. Charlie stared at the thrown open door to the kitchen, worry building up inside of him and he swallowed thickly as he tried to collect his thoughts.

He didn't hear what his Mother said to the others, but he did notice her point her wand at the sodden floor, the drink disappearing magically in mere moments.

"Don't think I'm not done with you two," Molly assured the Twins, who looked as though they may attempt to skate away in the wake of Amy's disappearance. "Just wait until your father comes home! He's going to-"

"Mum!" Charlie broke in, tearing his look away from the kitchen door. "You've just reminded me! I was supposed to tell you earlier today but things kept popping up. I'm supposed to head back to Romania for a few days to finalize some things with the manager. Just some odds and ends, you know?"

He pushed himself up from his seat, grabbing his coat from off the back of his chair. He pressed a kiss to his mother's cheek, not giving her any time to respond. "I'll owl you in a day or so, alright?" he promised, as he crossed the room to the door, making sure to idly muss up the nearest twin's hair.

He was gone the second he hit the hallway.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>So there's some Amy thoughts, some Twins, and then some (or perhaps a lot) of family. Oh! And Georgie! Gotta love Georgie. And... Sirius at his finest.

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	35. Chapter 34

**AN:** Here you go everyone! I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Actually... I think I rather like this chapter. It's all original stuff, so yeah... proud of that I guess. Any way, I hope you all enjoy this, because the likelihood of me updating in the next two weeks is slim to none (damn you finals!). Again, hope you enjoy!

**Dedication:** To the graduating class of 2012! I am so proud of you guys and I can honestly say that I have been changed for the better because I knew each and every one of you!

**Disclaimer:** I merely own Amy and her family.

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><p>The witch was riffling through several drawers of clothing when the crack resonated through her apartment. A couple of shirts fell from her hands as her fingers shot to her back pocket, removing her wand as she whipped around to face the person who had just Apparated into her home. She swallowed preparing to fire a curse at the shadowy figure, before she recognized the red hair and tall stature. Charlie raised his hands defensively, in an attempt to protect himself from any curse Amy may shoot his way. It had only been five minutes, at the most, since Amy had left Grimmuald Place kitchen in a flurry of steps and an ashen face, yet her bedroom was already much more disheveled than usual. She stared at him for a moment more before turning away hurriedly. She reached down to pick up the fallen articles of clothing before stuffing them into a bag that Charlie had just noticed at her feet. He watched her for several moments as she frantically went through her drawers.<p>

"Amy," Charlie started, his voice loud against the shuffling of clothing. "Amy." When she ignored him again, the wizard approached her setting a hand on her shoulder. She merely shrugged his hand off in reply, continuing to rummage through her drawers. Sighing, Charlie grabbed her shaking hands to still her flurried movements. She struggled against him for several moments before falling limp in his arms, her head hanging low as Charlie peered down at her curiously. She sniffled quietly from under her curtain of curled hair. Carefully, Charlie released one of her arms, raising his hand to her forlorn face. He grasped her chin in his fingers, lifting her face until her eyes met his. Tears stained her face in obvious streaks, and her eyes were watery with the upcoming wave of fresh tears. Her nose was red and snotty, but all Charlie could focus on was the look of utter despair and nervousness which was evident in her eyes.

"Amy," Charlie murmured imploringly, his thumb gently rubbing the salt worn flesh of her cheeks. "Amy, what is it?"

Her chin trembled just a bit before the tears began to leak from the corner of her eyes. Charlie froze as she began to cry, unsure as to what to do. Amy collapsed against his chest, and he hesitated for a moment before allowing his arms to wrap tightly around her, keeping her close to his warmth. Sure, he had held her in the previous weeks when she had cried over her termination, but this was different. These weren't tears of frustration or anger, but tears of despair and worry. He allowed his fingers to trail soothingly over her hair, murmuring comforting words into her ear. Amy's fingers clutched uselessly at Charlie's shirt, trying to grasp some semblence of stability in her world that just seemed to want to keep her on her toes.

Charlie's tight grasp and warmth eased its way into her core, and her sobs morphed slowly into hiccups and gasps of breath. Her fingers loosened from his now wrinkled and tear-stained shirt, and she attempted to pull herself into an upright position. Charlie reluctantly allowed her to do so. She braced her palms against his shoulders, trying to regain the breath which seemed determined to catch in her throat. The two stood in silence for several moments, Amy's gasping breaths the only noise.

"I'm being foolish," Amy finally whispered, staring at the damp spot on Charlie's shirt. "Selfish even." Charlie looked down at her curiously, his eyes narrowing in curiosity as he thought about what she was saying.

"You?" he asked eventually. "Selfish?" He laughed blandly. "I don't really think that's possible, love." Amy glared at him through her tear sodden eyelashes, and she sniffed loudly. She licked her lips in contemplation before finally looking Charlie in the eye.

"My dad," she swallowed, trying to clear her throat as Charlie searched her face carefully. "My dad is in the hospital." Charlie's grip around her waist tightened ever so slightly, his fingers pressed into the soft flesh.

"And how does that make you selfish?" Charlie questioned quietly, his head cocked ever so slightly. Anger now flashed behind Amy's eyes.

"Because," she started, her voice suddenly loud. "I'm crying and huffing about how my father's in the hospital because of his heart, and yet, your dad was just in the hospital too! And for something much worse than whatever is probably going on with my dad, but you never had a complete meltdown or went about smashing things in your apartment!" Charlie's eyes now moved away from hers, realizing for the first time that there were pieces of glass scattered across the floor of her apartment. Flowers, which Charlie had brought to her but days before in an attempt to lighten her spirits, lay wilting on the floor in a puddle of their water.

"Amy, you're allowed to feel emotions," Charlie assured her, looking back into the witch's somber eyes. "Something serious has happened to your father, and as his daughter, you're allowed to feel." Her fingers fell away from his shoulders, and she withdrew herself from his grip, placing some distance between her and her wizard. She had to wrap her own hands around her waist to try and retain any of his warmth.

"But my feelings shouldn't make me into someone so self-absorbed and frazzled!" Amy protested, shaking her head as she tried to grasp the words in her head. "Time after time, I continue to completely blow off all my other priorities at the drop of a pin. _That's _why I am selfish," she said, turning back to Charlie. "There's so much more going on in the world, so much pain and suffering to so many innocent people, and yet, all I can think about it _my _life, _my _happiness, _my _family." She was breathing heavily now.

"I mean, what kind of person is so self-absorbed that they are willing to completely by-pass the good of an entire world for her family? I have a duty to the Order and to myself to help this world. Our world. To protect everyone from what may be out there…" she broke off. "From what is out there, and yet, all I can think about is my family and my needs."

She realized then and there that this was the first time that she had really told anyone here feelings about her father. Sure, she talked to Georgie, Michelle, and Kate about how she was scared and fearful for her dad and how he lived, but she had never really talked to anyone about how angry she was as well. So much of her teen years were by-passed because of her glorious siblings and the rest of her youth had been marred by her father's unhealthy lifestyle.

"Well," Charlie admitted, "you certainly are guilty then." Amy looked up, pain evident in her eyes as she realized that her wizard now knew how selfish she was. "But if there's one thing you are not guilty of, it's being selfish." Amy snorted in a very undignified manner and made as though to protest, but Charlie held up a hand. His eyes grew soft as he took in his witch. "It's of loving your family entirely too much and having personal loyalty to those you love." He took several steps closer to her, trying to make her see what he saw in her. "You would do anything to help those you love, even if it means becoming a tad preoccupied and stressed. But to you it doesn't really matter, as long as your loved ones are happy."

He stared at her, trying to make her understand what he was saying. "You're not selfish because you would give your life and happiness to ensure the safety of others, even those you don't know. That's why you're part of the Order, to protect the defenseless. You're willing to sacrifice the world, your world, to save someone, and that's why you feel the need to do anything for your father, for your family. Because deep down inside-" he pressed a finger to her chest, just over her heart "-you're all about love, and you would do anything to ensure that your loved ones are safe and happy."

A moment of silence passed between the two before Amy flung herself at Charlie, her arms wrapping soundly around his neck as she pulled him down to meet her eager lips. Their teeth crashed together, but they ignored the pain, focusing solely on the fact that the other was in their arms. Though shocked, Charlie gripped her waist in his calloused hands, keeping her as close to him as he could, while her own hands played with the hairs which curled ever so slightly at the nape of his neck. The bag of her rapidly packed clothing lay forgotten at their feet as they continued to kiss, their mouths moving fiercely against the others.

Amy's emotions were rather all over the place. She was still angry with Molly and what the older witch had callously said to her, and she still despised Umbridge with every fiber of her being. She knew she should have been focused on her father and whatever his hospital visit would entail, but all she could focus on was Charlie's lips against hers and the way her body erupted into goosebumps as sparks and minature explosions (rather similar to the Twins' fireworks) soared through her body. She could only hope that Charlie too felt the emotions that were raging through her; the passion, the affection, the desire. It all filled her to the brim, exciting her while at the same time scaring her so badly that she wished she could run and hide away from this man. This man who caused all these feelings.

Her fingers now gripped at the lapels of his coat while Charlie's fingers splayed themselves underneath her shirt, moving in soft circles upon her back. She moaned softly as Charlie's lips moved away from her own, finding their new place against her neck, nipping at the soft skin. It was now Charlie's turn to groan as she pulled him closer to her body, their hips grinding against each other's for a brief moment.

Charlie's lips finally found their way back to hers, lingering on them as he attempted to convey to her all the feelings that he felt for her at the moment. It was rather unnecessary seeing as the feelings Amy was forcing into the kiss were very much the same.

The two eventually pulled away from each other, although not very far. Amy burrowed her head into the crook of his neck, while Charlie buried his face into her hair, just near her ear.

"You're anything but selfish, love," he whispered into her ear, inhaling the intoxicating smell of her shampoo and perfume. "Afterall, what selfish person devotes their life to helping others in every way, shape, and form?" She said nothing to contradict this, though Charlie assumed that she wasn't entirely convinced. They held each other in silence for several more moments. The wizard's eyes strayed to the drawn curtains of his witch's bedroom, noting that the sun which had once been gleaming through the crack between the drapes had grown darker as night began to fall.

"And as much as I hate to say this love, and I really do," Charlie murmured into Amy's ear, breaking the silence at last. "But aren't you supposed to be heading back to the States right about now?" He felt Amy deflate in his arms, every ounce of her contentness crashing out of her as her thoughts finally wandered back to her family.

The past few days, though difficult for her, had been rather… peaceful. She was able to awake every morning to Charlie at her side, and she was afraid that she was becoming just a bit too dependent on him. Now that she had been fired, there was really nothing truly forcing her away. Unlike with Hogwarts, she didn't _have_ to return to Chicago, she knew that. But it was the right thing to do, and she knew that.

She sighed despondently, pressing her face into his neck, and Charlie rolled his eyes, knowing that he would have to give her a bit of a push.

"Come on, Amy," he urged her, attempting to peel his arms from off her waist. His limbs apparently had other ideas. "You should really finish packing, especially if you want to see your dad tonight." His voice grew tight in his throat as he realized she would have to leave him again. "I'll be okay here alone, really. After all, I'm just an Appa-"

"Come with me."

The air around the two seemed to freeze as these three words slipped from Amy's lips. Immediately, she tensed in Charlie's arms as she realized what exactly she had just said. She pulled away from his now limp arms, her eyes wide and her forehead scrunched together nervously.

"I mean, I just thought," she sputtered intelligibly. She took a deep breath, trying to collect her thoughts as she looked anywhere but into the wizard's own wide blue eyes. "I just figured that because my parents and siblings are all Muggles then we wouldn't have to worry about anyone at Hogwarts finding out." Her eyebrows were knit together as though seemed to dawn on her. "Though, I guess the whole me teaching your siblings thing isn't really an issue now." She was rambling now as she shook her head, trying to regain her footing in her thoughts. "You really don't have to if you don't want to, it was just a thought, because you would have been stuck here alone, even though your entire family's here and so is your job, but it wouldn't be for long, and I just don't think I can go home alone and face my family. I mean, I don't know how to explain to them that I've been fired and plus…" Her words seemed to have shaken Charlie from his stupor.

"Alright," Charlie interrupted her, forcing the witch to break off mid-babble. Her eyes rose to meet his now, and her mouth hung open rather comically, her eyes wide.

"W-What?" Amy stuttered, staring up at her wizard who nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders.

"I said alright," he repeated, looking down at his witch. The mischevious look that she was so accoustomed to seeing on the Twins' faces was now making its way onto Charlie's. "I mean, you're right. Your family is all Muggles, and even if they did make some mention of us to someone they work with, it's not like anyone will know who my family is or how you are connected to them. Besides," Charlie added, raising his eyebrows slightly. "You met my family before we even started dating, and while they may not know that we are in fact together, I think it's about time I met your parents. I mean, it has been almost six months since Christmas." He shrugged again. "Now seems as good a time as any."

She blinked several times as her mind tried to wrap herself around all of this. She had grown up reading books and seeing movies, not to mention listening to every one of her sister's relationship tales, and if there was one thing that everyone of those stories agreed on, it was that men were supposed to run at the first sign of real commitment. Meeting the parents… that was kind of a big thing, especially in a family like hers where relationships and feelings were usually kept on the…down low….way down low. But just the fact that Charlie was completely willing to meet her family…well, the flutters rushing through her were almost as great as those from their kiss.

"Okay," she breathed, a small smile tugging at her lips as she looked up at Charlie through her eyelashes. "Sounds like a plan to me."

…..

Amy held Charlie close to her body as the two turned in the midst of her apartment. Within moments, it felt as though they were being pulled through a tube. The air around them grew week and they held their breaths as they continued to twist and contort through this invisible straw, colors and shadows rushing around them.

Their feet finally crashed against the pavement, and they stumbled across the rubble as they attempted to regain their balance. Slowly, and rather reluctantly, Amy unwound her arms from around Charlie, adjusting the strap of her back which lay across her chest. Charlie looked down to make sure she was balanced, before taking in his surroundings. The couple had Apparated into the backyard of Amy's parents, coincidentally the same house in which Amy had been raised. Though it was daytime, the witch had assured him that no one would see them as a large wooden fence blocked the view of the neighbors, and the landlords of the house would all be at their respective workplaces. Charlie took a moment to take in the bright green grass which curled around his feet and the broken walkway which made its way from the back door to the gate. The paneling around the house was a rich navy blue while the side gate which led to the front of the house was a quirky, bright red. Whilst there were no chickens or demented little gnomes wandering about the yard, muttering and making noise, the air was filled with the honking of horns and screeching of tires, all things which Charlie was unaccoustomed to.

Charlie was pulled out of his thoughts by Amy, who was absentmindedly tugging at his hand. She was attempting to pull herself to the backdoor, and a curious Charlie allowed himself to be dragged in the wake of the witch. She thrust a hand into the pocket of her cardigan, drawing a small key from its depths. She tried to open the door but her hands were shaking slightly, nerves obviously overcoming the slight witch. Charlie, in an attempt to soothe the witch, squeezed her hand tightly in his. He smiled as she returned the squeeze, her hands less shaky as the key finally fit into the lock. She wiggled the key in her hand a bit before the door finally opened. Sunlight flooded into the doorway, revealing a shadowy staircase to the two. The two shuffled into the small space, and Amy shut the door behind her before leading Charlie up the staircase.

Few words had been said between the two since Charlie had arrived back at her apartment after packing a few of his things. Amy had wanted to leave as soon as possible so as to still be able to visit her dad, and Charlie wasn't one to stop the stubborn witch from having her way. Instead, he had Apparated home, grabbed a bag of his things, and had been back in ten minutes. His witch however had yet to finish packing her own bag. He said nothing though, letting her flutter about the apartment grabbing this and that as she moved from one room to the next. Finally, the two were ready to leave just as the sun was beginning to set. The last thing they had seen of her apartment was the rosy red of the sun streaming through her curtains.

The two climbed one of the short flights of stairs, stopping outside the first door. "It's a two-story house," Amy had explained to him while she continued to throw together her bag. "My parents and siblings lived in another house before I was born, but when my mom found out she was pregnant with me, they decided it was time for a new place. We knew the landlords because they had rented us the old house, so we didn't mind living with them. They own the house but live on the top floor. The first floor's all ours though." This door proved much easier to be opened, and Charlie had barely enough time to take in the odd two-wheeled contraption and large, humming box before Amy pulled him inside the door.

Immediately, Charlie was overwhelmed with the smell of cinnamon and some other Christmas-y smell, while at the same time, his legs were bombarded by some fat ball of fluff, which had thrown itself at the newcomer. While Amy released his hand from hers, Charlie bent down to scoop up this fur-ball which proved to be a fairly large grey cat with the most startling green eyes. The cat squirmed for a moment in his arms, before settling itself down, its claws gripping the sleeve of his coat. Charlie absentmindedly stroked the feline's head while at the same time watching Amy who had thrown her bag down on the table.

"Hello?" she called down the hallway. "Anyone here?" She glanced over her shoulder at Charlie before stepping further into the small room.

Charlie now realized that he was in fact standing in the Wyman's kitchen and he took a moment to observe every Muggle thing about it. There were no dishes washing themselves, or knives cutting up vegetables. No Celestina Warbeck warbling from the enchanted radio… in fact, Charlie mused, it seemed as though there was no noise at all within the house. The house itself was rather dark as there were only a few small windows. One of the Muggle contraptions near the window drew Charlie's attention, and he carefully manuevered his way through the confined space, cat still in his arms, to examine the metallic box in the corner. Amy took no notice of the wizard as he prodded the small box curiously. Instead, she took a few steps into the kitchen, throwing open the first door she came upon. She poked her head inside the light blue room, ducking her head down to peer inside the room. A bunk bed, desk, and bookshelf were all that occupied the room (excluding the mess of papers and video games). She sighed, drawing her head from out of her brothers' old room as she continued down the hall.

The next closed door which she came upon was her parents', and she threw this door open as well, flipping the light switch just to her left. A muted light filled the room, and though the room was empty as well, Amy paused for a moment. The walls of her parents' room was still adorned with photos and paintings of ballet dancers, and scattered upon the short dresser to her left, were small figurines of famous ballet characters. Amy stepped further into the room, allowing her fingers to trail aimlessly over the brocade runner of the short armoire. Her mother's favorite pearls hung from a delicate jewelry stand. The witch could still remember all the times as a young girl when she would come into her parents' room, usually when they were both at work, and she would go through each drawer of her mother's jewelry. Never touching or removing them from their precariously placed spots, but merely looking at them and think of when she too would be able to look and feel as beautiful as her mother.

She still wasn't sure that time had come.

In the kitchen, Charlie had finished poking at the curious metal box and instead was observing the pictures which adorned the wall (the cat had pushed itself from his arms and was now entertaining himself with his food bowl). Pictures, painted hand prints, toddler drawings, and various school report cards were pined up around the room. Charlie took a moment to scan the memories, smiling softly as he saw things that were just so clearly Amy on the wall. Construction paper hearts with various words written in Latin and random scraps of paper with her handwriting scrawled across them. His eyes raced through these words, absorbing just how eloquently she was able to piece together her words. He took in every color, every smell, every comma, every bit of fluff. It was obvious that these had been written in an attempt to distract herself, if the random Potions and Herbology notes had anything to say. He scanned through the rest of her scraps of writing before moving on to the other papers strewn across the wall. Papers marked with high grades and smiley faces were not uncommon nor were the complicatedly aced math tests. Report cards and awards shined out from the papers in the waxy coats, yet it seemed that besides the bits of paper written in Amy's hand, nothing on this wall belonged to his witch. No drawings, or O marked tests… nothing at all. He frowned, lifting up several papers to see if perhaps her work was hiding but all he found was able to find was two pictures of Amy that weren't family portraits.

He felt as though he had seen it before, yet he couldn't help the way his eyes raked curiously over the photo. It was a rather simple photo in a rather simple scene. Amy, probably around the age of five, was nestled between two girls, most likely her own age, at a white table in a white room. The three of them were dressed to the nines, hair curled, and smiles bright. He didn't know why, but the picture brought a wide smile to his face at seeing his witch so contentedly happy.

The next photo was obviously from several years later as Amy appeared to be close to fifteen in the photo. Again, she was in between two girls, who Charlie recognized to be the same girls from before only ten years older. Yet this time, there was a new addition to the trio. A short haired girl with short hair, whose arms were wrapped tightly around the waist of one of her friends. The four all had huge smiles, again dressed to the nines in more sophisticated dresses. The looked so happy just to be standing in the presence of the others and their smiles clearly showed that.

"So, you found the wall, huh?" Charlie tore his eyes away from the photos, his hand fell to his side and the papers fluttered back into their original places. He turned on his heel to find Amy just behind him, her arms crossed over her chest as she eyed the wall behind the wizard disdainfully.

Charlie glanced over his shoulder at the tacked-up papers before back at Amy. "Why is there nothing of yours up there?" he asked, gesturing widely to the large wall of achievements and papers. Amy shrugged in what she hoped to be a nonchalant manner, but Charlie could practically feel the waves of unease wash off of her.

"What have I really accomplished that's worth showing?" she shot back, shifting her weight onto one foot. "I mean, I'm a witch, and you can't exactly go about telling all your co-workers that, now can you?" Charlie made as though to interrupt her, but she plowed on. "And, it's not like they can pin up my essays on transfiguring an opponent into a duck or how to put legs onto a teacup." She sighed softly, stepping passed Charlie to finger a wonderfully written essay of her sister's. "My siblings all have wonderfully interesting and ambitious jobs, and I'm a teacher." She snorted quietly, shaking her head before looking back at Charlie. "What's there to be proud of? Good grades and being Head Girl? My siblings have all topped that, probably topped it all by the time I was five. My parents may brag about me, but they do just so I don't feel left out, because like I said, what's there to be proud of?"

Charlie said nothing, simply staring at the witch in front of him. Her arms were now wrapped tightly around herself as she stared at the wall. What could he say to her? What could he do to help her? If she felt herself to be nothing, to have done nothing, then what could he possibly do?

Amy broke the silence by heaving a heavy sigh. She turned away from the wall with slightly forced smile. "We should probably continue looking to see if anyone's home, shouldn't we?" Charlie merely nodded. Amy spared the wall one last look of contempt before stepping around Charlie. She paused for a moment before lacing her fingers in his and pulling him after her. The two made their way down the narrow hall, the cat following closely behind them. The confined hallway soon opened up into a bright room which was filled to the brim with books. Three of the walls had bookshelves pressed up against the walls, each shelf stacked with book after book. The room had no wall between itself and the room next to it which was furnished with a set of couches and an entertainment set, and another wall in that room was also filled with books.

Charlie's eyes were wide, and he turned slowly to eye his girlfriend who shrugged slightly.

"We really like to read," she admitted not at all ashamed at the fact that Charlie had just realized she came from a family of giant nerds. She turned to a door which was nestled between two of the bookcases. A small sign hung from the door and written in cursive with what appeared to be a set of broken headphones was Amy's name. She gripped the cool doorknob in her hand, slowly pushing the door open. Despite the fact that none of the lights were on and the blinds were closed most of the way, Amy's room was undoubtedly the brightest room of the entire house. The walls were a soft yellow while the covers were a bright blue. Charlie peeked his head around the door frame and found that it too was filled to the breaking point with books of every shape and size. He was rather surprised that none of the furnishments of the room had collapsed under the weight of the novels. Slowly, she closed the door, preventing Charlie from taking an even closer look at the room which she had spent so little time in during her teenage years.

The two stood in the book filled room for several moments while Amy looked forelornly around her.

"I guess no one's here," she admitted quietly, and she felt her heart clench at the admission. Her family really had just left her out of the picture. Completely forgotten that Alan was her father too. She sighed, rubbing her forehead tersely, before turning back to Charlie her lips pursed together.

"Perhaps," she started softly. "Perhaps we should just go back." Charlie looked down at his sad witch, before dropping his bag from off his shoulder. He enveloped the woman into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair. He had never truly seen Amy look so down. Sure, she had shown up to his apartment in tears just days ago, but those had been more related to her frustration and anger at being sacked. The somewhat hollow and despondently look in Amy's eyes at that moment though… that was just too much for Charlie to bear.

"It's whatever you want, love," he told her softly, his grip still tight around her waist. "Your house, your ru-" The wizard broke off as the sound of someone playing with the lock filled the quiet house. Amy and Charlie both looked up at the door in the other room, two dark, hooded shadows quite evident through the frosted glass. Immediately, the two removed their wands from their pockets, fingers gripped tightly around the handles.

Amy stepped unwillingly from Charlie's embrace, raising her wand as the door slowly crept open…

…..

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Bit of a cliffy there, I know. I also know that some of this may go against the last chapter when Amy talked about her parents, but at the same time not really, because she only talked about her parents and their feelings towards here in passing. Of course they all love her, but it's difficult being the youngest and having to live up to the expectations and achievements of your siblings (youngest of four, trust me I know). Also, I am trying to make Amy seem not Mary-Sueish. Someone made some comment in a review a while back that she was coming off as slightly Mary-Sueish and I really don't want that to happen, so I figure add in a bit of insecurity and whatever else! In the upcoming chapters, I'll try and get a bit more Amy/Charlie fun moments, that way we can learn a bit more about Charlie (aside from the fact that he is a ripped Weasley man).

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	36. Chapter 35

**AN:** Hey everyone! Okay, I really need to stop staying up so late to finish these. Gosh, I'm going to end up killing myself or passing out during school or something. Anyway, this might be my last update for a week or so. I have finals starting on Friday and then this weekend is study weekend. Then finals start again on Monday and Tuesday, and then it's my last week of school. It's actually really weird. This year seemed to fly by and I can't believe I'm going to be a sophmore so soon! This year has had some ups and downs and this story has really proved to be a great source for me to just explore everything and anything.

So thanks to my readers for keeping me interested and motivated to keep writing!

**Dedication:** To Mary Mathias!

**Disclaimer: **I own only Amy, her family, and the little surprise at the end!

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><p>Though the room was filled with shadows, Amy was still able to make out the shadowed figures in the door way, and all the fear that had built up within her but moments ago faded away. Her wand hand fell to her side, and behind her, Charlie made an almost inaudible, indignant noise, as he kept his wand on the unknown figures. The first figure to enter the house, raised a slight hand to her hood, pulling the fabric away to reveal a mane of dark brown locks.<p>

"Rose?"

Amy's voice was loud compared to the quiet of the house and even though the witch stood in the center of her sister's line of vision, the older woman jumped. She blinked around her a few times before her gaze landed on her younger sister.

"Holy sh- Amy?" Rose gasped, her hand pressed against her heart as though it were beating a mile a minute. "You scared the crap out of me!" Behind Rose, Amy's brother-in-law, Dave, stepped through the doorway, shutting the front door behind him with a snap. He too appeared to be surprised at the appearance of his sister-in-law, yet the expression on his face was much happier than that of her sister's.

"Amy!" he greeted, stepping further into the house. He skirted around his wife and into the book-filled room to embrace the young witch. Amy half-heartedly returned the hug whilst keeping her eye on her sister who was still breathing slightly heavily. Dave clapped Amy on the back several times, turning back to face his wife with a bright smile. "Well, isn't this a great surprise?"

Neither sister said anything for a moment. Amy's eyes had begun to narrow and her face grew hard while Rose had enough sense to look sheepish. The older sister toed the carpet at her feet while her witch sister glared at her. Dave's smile slipped from his face as he realized what was coming.

"So, how's your week been Rose?" Amy asked, her voice terrifyingly calm though she eyed her sister with obvious venom. "Anything exciting or new happen to you?" Rose flinched slightly, shutting her eyes slightly. She had gotten in enough arguments with her younger sister to know that she should be afraid at the moment. Very afraid.

"Amy," Rose started slowly and gently in an attempt to soothe her baby sister. "We were going to send you a letter, but-"

Amy snapped.

"But? _But?" _Amy's voice was no longer calm and the occupants of the room (Charlie as well) flinched at her venom laced voice. "There's no 'but' in this situation, Rose." She took several steps towards her sister, pointing at her accusingly. It was obvious to Charlie that her previously worried feelings over her father's well-being were quickly turning to anger at the fact that her family had decided to keep her out of a very serious loop. "Dad's in the hospital and instead of telling me, like you all should have, you decided to not, because 'Amy's too fragile' or 'too young.'" Rose looked up indignantly.

"You're putting words into my mouth, Amy," she protested earnestly. She too stepped forward, and it was then that though there was a nine year age difference between the two women, they were in fact the same height. In fact, Charlie mused observing quietly from the corner which he had sunk into upon the arrival of Amy's sister and brother-in-law, Rose and Amy were very much the same. Long, curling hair, and a robust figure. The two would've been almost as identical as Fred and George were it not for Rose's blue eyes and lack of smattered freckles. "You know we would have told you if…" she trailed off, the confidence in her voice fading away.

"If?" Amy challenged, her eyes flashing. "If what?"

"If you were here," Dave broke in, daring to face the wrath of his sister-in-law, who spun around to look at him. "Can you honestly say that the best way to hear about your Dad was through a letter? Wouldn't you rather it be in person?"

"Yes, it would have been best in person, but just because I'm not here doesn't mean you can't tell me!" Amy fought, her hands on her hips.

"And whose fault is it that you're not here ever?" Rose demanded, drawing Amy's attention back to her. It seemed that she was feeding off of Amy's anger as well as building up her own.

"You're blaming me?" Amy hissed, her face contorted into a mask of fury and disbelief. "I can't believe you!"

"I can't believe _you_!" Rose shot back, pointing at Amy now. "You're off in your magical little world in England, where everything is perfect and fantasical, and when you come back to see us, all you do is complain and whine!"

"You know nothing about my life, Rose!" Amy shouted. The men in the room winced at the high tone. "If you knew what my life was really like you wouldn't think it was so marvelous. My life is _anything _but perfect and as of right now, it's in shambles. There's nothing perfect or great in my life right now."

Again, Charlie made a slight noise similar to that of an irked dragon, effectively drawing the attention of the room. He had the grace to blush slightly as the the family members looked at him. Amy's face softened slightly at his flushed, yet indignant expression.

"No offense, Charlie," she added softly, eyeing him gently before turning back to Rose, her expression much less angry. "But like I said, my life is anything but perfect right now." Charlie knew she wasn't referring to their relationship, but more to the chaos of the Magical world and the fact that she had lost her job. Amy waited until Rose's eyes finally moved from off the shadowed wizard and back onto her. She stared into her sister's bright blue eyes, identical to those of her father's. The witch's heart ached slightly at the thought of her father lying in a hospital bed somewhere.

"Rose," she said, her voice just above a whisper. She shut her eyes, exhaustion setting in. "Just… what hospital?" Rose blinked several times, not exactly understanding why Amy's inflection had changed so quickly. She pressed her lips together, eyeing her sister curiously.

"Northwestern," she supplied slowly, scanning her sister's exhausted face. "He's on the seventh floor. Visiting hours are until 8:30." Amy nodded, slowly opening her eyes. She sighed heavily, brushing at her bangs which were hanging delicately in her eyes.

She turned now to Charlie, who was looking expectantly at her. She gestured ever so slightly with her head and he emerged from the shadows, skirting around Dave, to take his place next to the slight witch. As inconspicously as possible, the wizard laced his fingers with Amy's, squeezing her hand tightly in an attempt to reassure her. Rose and Dave eyed their interlocked fingers as Amy stuffed her wand into the pocket of her dress. Once she was sure that it wouldn't fall out of her pocket, Amy looked up at her sister again.

"Don't even dare calling Mom," she ordered, raising her eyebrows at her sister. "Want to surprise her." Rose snorted softly, very similarly to the way that Amy did.

"Whatever you say, Amy," she assured the woman. Amy nodded, looking up at Charlie to make sure he was ready to go. She took a deep breath, imagining downtown Chicago in her mind. With all of the security cameras around the hospital, she knew it would be best for her to Apparate somewhere other than near the massive buildings. The streets were likely to be busy and there wasn't exactly any dark alleys that she could Apparate herself and Charlie into without raising suspicion. With her destination in mind, Amy made as though to turn.

"Amy." Rose's voice caught ever-so slightly in her throat when her sister opened her eyes to look at her. She gave the witch a weak smile. "It _is _nice to see you."

Amy smiled slightly, before tightening her grasp on Charlie's hand and turning on her heel.

…..

For the second time that day, Amy and Charlie were sucked into what felt like a contorted tube, colors blazing past them. Amy's fingers tightened crushingly over Charlie's as she tried to keep a mental image of their destination in mind. It had been almost a year since she had last been in downtown Chicago, so she hoped that her memory proved reliable.

With a jerk, the couple was pulled from the tube and their feet collided with the pavement. Immediately, the two were overwhelmed with the scent of mildew and spilled coffee. All around them, people were jostling back and forth, though they took no notice of the couple who had just appeared in their midst. As they were pulled about from both sides, Amy gripped Charlie's hand tightly in hers and she pulled him along in the direction of the swarm of people. Charlie in turn was gazing curiously around the area they had just Apparated into.

It appeared as though they were underground. Some of the walls were a dank brown while the others featured an image made up of glass tiles. In bright letters on the wall, spelled "CHICAGO," and he could feel vibrations and furious rumbles under his feet. All around him, people were talking with each other or adjusting their clothes and bags. The wizard allowed himself to be pulled by the witch to a flight of stairs leading up into the blinding sunlight. Slowly, so as to not jostle those around them, the couple made their way up the stairs, their free hands gripping the bright red railing tightly.

The sun was blinding as they emerged from the dark and ominous underground. Charlie blinked several times as his eyes began to grow accoustomed to the bright lights and sounds of the city. He stood still for a moment, his eyes opened wide in awe. All around him were tall, gleaming buildings of shiny metal and glass. He probably could have stayed there all day if Amy hadn't tugged on his hand, pulling him away from the mouth of the stairs.

Charlie continued to look around in astonishment, still unable to comprehend exactly what was around him. London was almost always dark and gloomy, and sunlight was a rarity. Yet in this city, it seemed as though there could never be a dark or quiet day. People talking, cars honking, lights streaming billiantly from the sun before reflecting off the building. It was all too much, and the sounds were fascinating and the smells so intoxicating. He had never really notice just how amazing the Muggle world was. He had never really thought that it could be this exciting, and for a fraction of a second, he was jealous that Amy had grown up in this grand city, and then… he remembered his home, the clucking chickens and the demented gmones, and those feelings melted away.

Amy led him further down the crowded street, dodging and skirting around people. She was completely in her element, and she took no notice of the hustle and bustle around her. Charlie tightened his grip on Amy's hand, keeping her long curls in his sight as they continued down the street.

The witch eventually pulled him from the crowd, turning a sharp corner and down a much less crowded street. The buldings cast long shadows over the paved street, and with the sun blocked for just a moment, Charlie could almost imagine that he was back in London on a rainy day. He woue wouldn't have noticed that Amy had stopped if he hadn't bumped into her. He stumbled slightly, dropping his hand from hers to grip her waist in an attempt to steady her.

"Sorry, love," he muttered, yet the witch took no notice. Instead, she was starng up at the grey-blue stone building before her. Charlie looked between the witch and the buildng. Her eyes were wide and her forehead scrunched together. Her heart was racing rather quickly, whether it was due to rushing from the train station or from what she knew lay ahead of her. Her eyes roamed over the façade of the building, eyeing the large windows with uncertainty. The idea of her father being just another patient within the hospital frightened her to no extent.

Swallowing heavily, Amy straightened her shoulders and tightened her grip on Charlie's hand. Gathering up whatever courage she may have, Amy gently tugged the wizard into the hospital lobby, where nurses, doctors, and visitors were roaming about. Charlie made as though to move to the information desk, which was centered in the large, furnished room, but Amy instead pulled him around a corner and down an empty hall."

"Wait, where are we going?" Charlie questioned, looking over his shoulder towards the pavillion which was growing smaller and smaller behind him. "The information desk is back that way." He pointed aimlessly behind him, yet he continued to obediently followed after the witch.

"I basically grew up here, Charlie," Amy answered dismissively, not bothering to look behind her. "You really think I need someone to tell me where to go?" Charlie took Amy's tone as a clue that he should now remain silent. She obviously knew where she needed to go.

The couple made their way to the end of the hall and Amy turned once more, revealing another desk with a very bored secretary behind it. The woman was snapping her gum and doodling on a large piece of paper, her designs intricate and surprisingly good for someone who looked as though she were about to fall asleep. Amy dropped her hand away from Charlie's as she took several steps forward. The secretary looked up expectantly as Amy and Charlie approached her desk, her eyebrows raised.

"Alan Wyman," Amy supplied before the woman had a chance to ask her question. She had a small smile on her face. If there was one thing that was true about both the Muggle and Magical world, it was that kindness certainly got you far.

The secretary raised her eyebrows slightly at the girl,before she began to eye Charlie curiously, biting on her lip as she blushed. The woman, who was not much older or perhaps not much younger than Amy, flipped her hair flirtatiously over her shoulder. Amy's gut clenched tightly, and she felt slightly squeamish. As the secretary's fingers sped over the wobbly keys of the keyboard, she continued to eye Charlie enticingly, batting her eyes and pouting her lips. Charlie seemed to take no notice of the girl, instead curiously looking at the large box that the secretary were focused on. He wished he could take a closer look at the white box, but he thought the Muggle behind the desk would think it odd if he started asking questions about the contraption. Amy stood there rather awkwardly, her eyes flashing between Charlie and the secretary.

The woman behind the desk had long blonde hair which hung straight down her back. No frizz or muss, simply straight. Her skin was pale and her elegant nose was sprinkled with delicate freckles. Amy ran a hand through her own tangly hair, her fingers catching every so often on a knot before moving to rub a hand over the bridge of her nose self-consciously. The secretary was a classic beauty, almost perfect a perfect example of the Golden Ratio, and Amy immediately felt insecure.

The witch was extremely glad when the blonde woman pulled out a pen and two visitors badges, writing in an elegant script, 721. She flashed Charlie a 100-watt smile as she passed the badge to him, before aimlessly passing the other badge to Amy.

"Thank you," Charlie provided politely. It took a moment to attach the badge to the lapel of his jacket, but he smiled brightly once he had. He looked expectantly to Amy now, who was nervously turning the badge between her fingers. He cocked his head slightly, his eyes curious. "Ready to head up?"

Amy looked at the secretary, who was still biting her lip and looking at Charlie coyly, once more, before turning back to the wizard. She nodded once, clipping the badge onto the pocket of her cardigan. When it was firmly latched onto the soft sweater, Amy turned and walked down a short corridor, just behind her, where there was a row of elevators. Charlie followed after he slowly, watching her curiously as she pressed the up button to one of the elevators before nervously pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her finger tips. She gripped the material tightly around her hands. She could feel Charlie's stare on the back of her head, and from the corner of her eye, she could still see the blonde woman looking at Charlie. Her stomach clenched unpleasantly again as the elevator door opened with a ding. She quickly boarded the elevator, hoping to get as far as way from the secretary as possible. Charlie paused for a moment, flashing the woman a bright smile and a small wave before he too boarded the elevator.

Charlie moved to stand next to the witch as the doors of the small space closed again. He gazed inquistively around him at the mirrored walls and the many buttons next to the door. He moved so as to press a random button, but Amy swatted his hand away.

"Seventh floor," she said, her voice shaking slightly. She pressed the button with seven which lit up brillantly, reflecting off the mirrored walls. She turned quickly back to face the elevator doors as the numbers at the top of the door began to count. 1…2…3…

"Amy?" Charlie asked, looking down at her. He pressed his lips together when she did not respond.

4…5…

He eyed his witch before reaching down and catching her hand in his. His fingers intertwined with his, yet she continued to look stoically ahead.

6…7… DING.

He pressed a quick kiss to the top of her curly hair just as the doors of the lift opened to reveal a white wall with a rather hideous painting.

"Everything will be okay," he whispered softly, obviously taking her stoniness to be anxiousness over her father. It was slightly reassuring to the witch. Perhaps he hadn't even noticed the secretary's flirtatious ways. Maybe he hadn't… She squeezed his hand in hers before stepping off the elevator, Charlie in tow.

The door closed behind them, and they were left in the middle of a hall way. The two could hear the faint beeps from down the hall, beeps which only grew louder and louder as the made their way down the hall. At the end of the corridor was a set of double doors, lined in metal. As they approached, the doors opened with a swish, and the two now found themselves in the middle of a large hospital unit. All around them, secretaries and technicians sat at computers while nurses and doctors bustled around, papers and bags in hand. For a moment, Amy thought Charlie may be overwhelmed with all of the hustle and bustle, but then she remembered that he had five younger siblings and that a day spent on a hospital unit, no matter how Mugglish it was, would be a day in the park.

With a quick glance at the numbers above the nearest patient room, Amy took a turn around the nurses' front desk. Charlie followed after the witch, and if he wasn't so distracted by the computers that were now so near to him, he would have noticed the nurse before he crashed into her.

The woman's papers fell from her arms, and she cursed softly in a language Charlie didn't know. The older woman brushed aggrivatedly at her stand of hair which had fallen from her long, dark braid.

"I'm so incredibly sorry," Charlie began. He dropped Amy's hand so as to kneel down to pick up the papers which were strewn across the floor. Amy sighed softly before kneeling down as well, grabbing several papers which had fluttered away. The nurse wiped at her forehead as she bent down to grab a bag which had also fallen from her hands. "I should have been paying attention to where I was going."

For the first time since arriving back in the States, Amy realized just how odd Charlie's accent sounded when compared to everyone else. She focused back on the task at hand, gathering up the last few stray papers as Charlie stood. He handed the pile of papers to the tired woman, who flashed him a soft smile.

"It's perfectly fine," the nurse assured him. Though her words were spoken with elegant dictation, there was a heavy Indian accent residing in her voice, and Amy's head shot up. "Things happen." Charlie smiled softly. He apologized again and made as though to move away and back over towards Amy.

"Mary?" the younger woman's voice was soft and questioning and the older nurse turned to look at her. Her eyes narrowed in thought as she examined the girl's face. Charlie looked between the two women, who were staring at each other. Amy's face was bright while the Indian woman's was more reserved, almost like her face had been like that forever. It was very surprising to the wizard when the older woman's face broke out into a large, dazzling smile.

"Amy Wyman?" she asked excitedly. "Oh my, is that you?" Amy laughed slightly, nodding. The nurse, Mary, pressed her lips together, before opening her arms. "Well, come here girl." Amy laughed outright now, stepping forward to embrace the shorter woman. Charlie caught Amy's eye, raising his eyebrow curiously as he gestured to the embrace. Amy's smile merely brightened.

The two pulled away, and Mary gripped Amy's shoulders, looking the girl up and down. "It certainly has been a long time, hasn't it?" Mary demanded, her shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. "I mean, the last time I saw you Amy, you were wearing glasses and I was still taller than you." Amy laughed, nodding again.

"Well," Amy began, a bright smile still on her face. It was the first time in a while that Charlie had seen the witch look so happy, and it warmed him to think that though there trip to Chicago was for sad reasons, it may also bring some good to the witch. "When you're only home for two months out of the summer, and teachers decide to load you up with homework, I'm afraid one doesn't get much time to have some fun, let alone come and visit anyone!" The two laughed again.

"Yes, but from what _I_ hear," Mary continued, "one doesn't become a teacher at one of the top boarding schools in England from just lying around doing nothing either, do they?" She looked approvingly at Amy who blushed faintly. "Always knew you were different than your siblings." The corners of Amy's mouth drooped slightly, something which Mary took notice of.

"Don't take that as a bad thing, girl," she reprimanded the witch. "Different is good. Who wants to be like everyone else?" Amy smiled again, although it didn't light up her eyes as much as before. "Now, are you going to introduce me to your friend?"

Mary turned back to face Charlie now, an arm still wrapped around Amy's shoulders. She looked Charlie up and down, similarly to the way she had done so to Amy.

"Of course," Amy agreed, swallowing slightly. This would be the first time Amy introduced Charlie to anyone as her… boyfriend, and she found that she was lacking any Gryffindor bravery she may have once had. "Mary, this is Charlie Weasley. Charlie this is Mary Mathias. Mary works with my mom and dad."

Charlie smiled gently, holding a hand out to the nurse, who shook his hand firmly. "Pleased to meet you," he said politely, nodding his head slightly. His voice was deep and almost gravelly, and Amy found that it soothed the nerves which had built up within her.

"Let me assure you, Mr. Weasley," Mary replied, her mischevious glint in her eye. "The pleasure is all mine. I can't remember the last time Amy brought along a… _friend_ to the hospital. Then again," Mary continued, turning to face the witch, who was slowly turning red. "I don't think she has ever brought a friend here." She eyed Charlie over her shoulder. "You must be something special."

Charlie grinned largely. "I like to think I am," he answered, winking quickly at the two women. Mary laughed, while Amy continued to grow more and more red.

"Well," Mary began, wiping gently at her eyes, "I would love to stay and converse on just how special you are, Mr. Weasley, but I'm afraid that I must run these papers down to the lab." She looked down at the papers in her hand, some of which were spilling over the edge of the pile. "And I believe you two do have a reason for being here other than to bump into little old me." She turned back to Amy, pulling the last few sheets of paper from Amy's hand before pointing to a room at the end of the hall. "They're all in there."

Amy's smile faltered slightly as her eyes moved to the curtain room at the end of the hall, before looking back at Mary.

"Right," she muttered, shaking her arms so that the sleeves fell over her hands again. "Thanks." Mary squeezed Amy's arm once again.

"Of course, Amy," she said softly, smiling at the much younger girl. She moved past the witch, flashing Charlie another smile. "Again, a pleasure to meet you Mr. Weasley." She waved slightly before making her way down the hall.

Charlie and Amy stood there in the middle of the hall for a moment more, before Amy sighed, looking at Charlie with a pained face. "Guess we should get this over with, yes?" Charlie surveyed the witch, taking in her forlorn expression and the sweater sleeves gripped tightly in her fingers.

He leaned forward slightly, pressing a kiss to her brow. "After you, love," he whispered to her, catching her hand in his and squeezing it tightly. Amy nodded uncertainly, her eyes downcast before straightening her shoulders determinedly. Inhaling deeply, she took several steps forward, Charlie following after the witch. They stopped just outside the doors of room 721. Through the glass doors, the couple could hear talking and the occasional laugh.

Amy raised a hand as though to knock on the door, but she faltered. Her father was in there… her family was in there… She shouldn't have to knock. Instead, her hand fell to the doorhandle. She was just about to pull it open, when the door opened itself. Amy and Charlie froze at the appearance of the short girl before them.

Charlie thought he knew the woman before them. He could have sworn he had seen her somewhere, but where, he had no idea. Amy, however, knew immediately who the girl was.

"Michelle?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Bam. Another cliffhanger. What now, suckas? Sorry... I need to get out of school. Anyway here you go, but before _I_ go, I have something to say.

Mary Mathias (last name was changed) is a real person. Or was. My parents, who are both nurses, worked with a nurse, Mary, who acted as a mentor and great friend to my mom and dad. Unfortunately, a couple of weeks ago, Mary's health took a turn for the worse and she died. My dad was there and he was completely devestated at the loss of his friend and role model. So this chapter is for you Mary! Rest in peace! Everyone here misses you dearly.

Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. Feel free to review or PM me with any questions, concerns, or comments. Actually... please do. I don't ask for reviews often but I would like to know what you all think about where I am going as of now.

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	37. Chapter 36

**AN: **You know, I'm rather proud of myself. We're only nine days into June and I've already update like three times or something crazy like that. I'm pretty sure that's an awesome feat! Anyway, I know I said I wouldn't update because of finals and everything, but I was actually given a pass for a final and allowed to go to the library during the exam (gosh, I love math class). I was supposed to study for any other exam, but this was much more entertaining. There's a bit of swearing so be warned, and also, Amy may seem a bit out-of-character perhaps, but I think it's just that she has so many emotions rushing through her. Plus, since she is an original character, I guess she can't really be out-of-character... Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

**Dedication: **Me-Shell: I love you so much chickieboo, but I swear if you ever pull a stunt like your character in this chapter... well... let's just say that you should watch your back... LOVE YOU!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing you recognize.

* * *

><p>Michelle had the decency to look ashamed as Amy looked at her in shock. The much shorter girl (she was probably barely five foot) ran a hand through her hair, glancing from side to side in an attempt to avoid Amy's look.<p>

"Michelle," Amy began, finally breaking the silence that had fallen over the trio. The others waited in an awkward silence while Amy gathered her thoughts. "It's so great to see you!" Charlie looked up in surprise. He had thought at first that Amy was angry, but this idea was thrown out the window as his witch stepped forward, pulling the shorter woman into a tight embrace. Michelle hesistated for a moment, looking briefly over her shoulder before whole-heartedly hugging Amy. The two women rocked saide to side for a moment before Amy finally detached herself from her friend's arms. She surveyed the girl, her eyes bright with happiness.

Charlie now realized where he knew Michelle from. She had been in the second picture he had looked at on the wall of the Wyman house. She was obviously very close to Amy, and now that he thought about it, he was sure Amy had mentioned a Michelle more than once during their time together. Yet, something that Charlie found off was that even though the two friends had probably not seen each other since the the end of July of last year, Amy appeared to be much more excited to see her friend than Michelle.

"Oh, Shelly," Amy started, "You have no idea how much I have missed you. Life has been…" Amy trailed off, obviously searching for the right word. "Crazy, to say the least," she finished firmly. Michelle smile weakly at her friend. Again, the shorter woman ran a hand through her hair, something Charlie was beginning to assume to be a nervous trait. She opened her mouth to say something, but Amy cut her off, staring intently at Michelle's neck.

"Is that a hickey?" Amy demanded, her eyes wide with curiosity and laughter. Charlie peeked carefully at Michelle's neck, and sure enough, at the base of her throat, where her neck met her shoulder, was a dark red mark. Michelle immediately raised a hand to her neck, her fingers gliding over the mark. A bright flush began to spread up her neck and face, and she pulled at the collar of her shirt in an attempt to cover up the bite.

"No! No!" Michelle protested, her eyes wide in desperation. Her eyes darted side to side. "God no! Gosh, Amy, maybe your brain has been addled from being in England so long! Why would I have a hickey?" She laughed as though the idea were absurdly ridculous, but Amy, who had been Michelle's friend since she was seven knew better, and the witch's smile slid slowly from her face. Amy's eyebrows furrowed together, and she cocked her head slightly as she looked down at Michelle.

"Michelle," Amy spoke softly and with great dictation, "what exactly are you doing here? I thought my dad was only taking immediate family visitors." Michelle's eyes grew wide once more as she stared at her best friend.

"Um, he is!" Michelle proclaimed, nodding her head furiously. The girl's short hair flipped back and forth. "But, uh, I was visiting my own dad, you know." Amy nodded slowly, remembering that Michelle's dad did in fact work as a hospital researcher. "And I thought, since I'm here you know, I should drop in and say hi!" The girl bit her lip nervously as Amy looked at her. Slowly, a smile began to reform on Amy's face and Michelle's shoulders relaxed in visible relief.

"Of course," Amy laughed, her voice breathy. "How could I be so silly! You came to visit your dad! Duh!" The two women laughed, Michelle obviously overly relieved. The laughter slowly died down and the two friends simply smiled at each other. Amy paused for a moment, licking her lips.

"But Michelle," Amy said slowly, "technicians don't work on weekends." Michelle laughed again, before she realized what her friend had said, and her smile dropped from her face, anxiousness reappearing. Amy crossed her arms over her chest tightly, raising her eyebrow as her smile slipped away too.

"Oh, well," Michelle began, obviously attempting to grasp any lie she could, "Well, you see, I, what I mean is-"

"What are you really doing here, Michelle?" Amy demanded, all laughter gone from her eyes. "There's no way in hell you would be allowed in there without a visitors badge, and since you obviously have one-" Amy pointed to the bright yellow badge with the number 721 written on it "-and while we might see you as family, the hospital sure as hell doesn't, so you either lied and told the secretary that you were family or-"

"I'm dating Rich," Michelle interrupted. She shut her eyes and flinched as though she expected to get hit. Precariously, she opened her eyes to look at Amy, who in turn, was staring at the shorter woman, her mouth dangling open and her eyes filled with disbelief.

"Y-You're _what?_" Amy stammered, her eyes surveying Michelle's face for any hint that she may be lying. There was none.

Michelle took a deep breath, swallowing heavily. "I am dating Richard," she enunciated slowly, her eyes never straying from Amy's. "Since November now. We were going to tell you at Christmas but you didn't come back for break." The witch blinked several times as she tried to take this information in.

"You're dating Richard," Amy repeated, her eyes dropping away from Michelle's. "You're dating my brother." Charlie wasn't sure, but he could have sworn that he heard a hint of betrayal in Amy's voice, and his hand immediately moved to her back in an attempt to provide her with support. Amy didn't notice as she continued to maul over the idea of one of her best friends dating her own brother. Michelle nodded hesitantly.

From the corner of his eye, Charlie saw Amy straighten her shoulders, clench her jaw. The witch sniffed delicately, a mask falling over her face, and in a flash, all emotion fell from her face.

"Well, that's all fine and dandy, isn't it?" Amy drawled, refusing to look Michelle in the eye. The short woman's face crumpled at Amy's cold tone. "Now, if you excuse me." Amy pulled away from Charlie's hand and brushed past her friend.

"Amy, please!" Michelle cried, turning to face her friend. "Just listen to me! Please!" Amy froze, and Charlie could have sworn he saw a shudder run through Amy. The witch's thoughts immediately flew back to the winter night years ago, when the very girl in front of her had… she trembled slightly. Michelle took no notice of this however. "You have to understand-"

Amy flipped around, her eyes blazing and Michelle stammered to a halt. "I understand perfectly, Michelle," Amy hissed, again every emotion from the past few days soaring through her. "I understand that my family and my friends, who are practically my sisters, have been lying and keeping secrets from me. I get that."

"But your Mom-"

"I don't care what my Mom said," Amy uttered, her voice low and cold. "You shouldn't have listened to her. You should have told me. You should have told me everything." Amy's voice cracked slightly as she realized that she too had been keeping secrets from her family as well. Her eyes flicked to Charlie briefly before back to Michelle. But that was different. They had a real, important reason to not telling anyone about their relationship. Michelle… Michelle had merely been afraid.

The shorter woman breathed deeply, looking hesitantly at Amy's infuriated face, before she quickly dropped her eyes away from her friend. Amy set her jaw, biting the inside of her cheek, as she tried to refrain herself from lashing out any further. Her eyes moved away from Michelle's now and onto Charlie. Her heart fluttered slightly as she realized that he wasn't looking at her with disdain for her outburst, but instead his eyes were filled with compassion and empathy. He understood that she was filling so completely overwhelmed and that this was merely an eruption of days, weeks, even months of pent-up aggression. She swallowed harshly, her eyes softening ever so slightly as she looked at the wizard.

"Give me a few mintues," she whispered over Michelle's head. Charlie nodded once, flashing the witch a small smile. She attempted to send him a smile in return, but she could not bring herself to do so.

Slowly, she turned away from the despondent Michelle and Charlie. She placed her hand on the door, pausing for a moment as she tried to gather whatever courage she could. Breathing deeply, Amy slid the door open, stepping around the curtain, and shutting the door behind her.

Immediately, faint beeps and an odd pumping noise reached Amy's ears. A boxy television was on in the corner of the room, but Amy's attention moved to the hospital bed which was surrounded by a group of people. They all had their backs to her, but Amy knew immediately that it was her brothers and mother around her father's hosptial bed.

None of them took notice of Amy's entrance. Instead, they were laughing and talking amongst themselves. The witch observed that her mother had her hand wrapped tightly around her father's, while Rich and Eric were fighting over the remote to the television, shoving each other this way and that as they tried to gain control over the other, laughing the entire time.

"Well, aren't I excited to have been invited to this family gathering," Amy broke in over the laughing voices. Her family turned to her, their eyes wide and silence falling over them. "Or did you forget, I am still part of this family." Though there was a smile on her face, the witch's voice was sardonic and cold. The remote slipped from her brothers' hands and Amy's mom, Ann, stood up, dropping her husband's hand.

"Amy!" Ann proclaimed, her eyes wide as she took in her youngest. "What are you doing here?" Amy refrained from rolling her eyes.

"Oh you know, just visiting my sick dad while he's in the hospital," Amy droned, the expression on her face cold. "No biggy." Ann looked over her shoulder at her sons who were looking sheepishly between each other, running a hand through their shaggy hair, before at her husband who pulled a rather comical face.

"Amy," the witch's mother began, "we would have told you eventually-"

"Oh Merlin," Amy exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air. "I'm so sick and tired of that!" Ann looked astonished to have been interrupted by her normally respectful daughter. "All this bullshit on telling me eventually and how I am too fragile to be told, I mean really? Really?" Amy's eyes were blazing now. "I'm not ten years old anymore, mother. I think I can handle a bit of bad news."

Ann straightened her shoulders, trying to gain some height. Unfortunately, the mother was the shortest in the family if you didn't couldn't Ollie the cat. "Obviously, you can't handle this if you're reacting in such a poor manner!" Amy snorted, crossing her hands over her chest.

"No, Mom, the reason I'm reacting like this is because my family has been keeping secrets from me," Amy scoffed. "Secrets about my father's freakin' well being. I mean, the only reason I even know about all of this is because of Georgie! First off, Georgie? Georgie knows before I do? And second, would I have ever found out about this if Georgie hadn't told me? Or would it have been a secret that you all buried in the closet."

"Amy," Rich broke in, "you're acting like a bitch, calm down." Amy whipped around to face her brother.

"You don't get to say anything, Richard," Amy hissed, glaring at her brother who looked at her with apprehension. She shook her head slightly, rolling her eyes now. "Got that?"

"Oh, stop being so pretentious!" Rich argued, standing up and moving around the hospital bed to face his younger sister. "Just because you've got all these magical powers doesn't mean you get to know everything!"

"No shit," Amy sneered, "but I think there's a difference between wanting to know a bit of family gossip and wanting to know if my father's in the hospital!" The two were almost nose to nose, despite the fact that Rich was seven inches taller than her.

"Amy," a new voice entered the fray, drawing the attention of the room. Her father was looking at her. He attempted to push himself into a sitting position. Ann made so as to help him, but he waved his wife off, struggling for a few minutes more, before he was able to sit straight up. Amy's breath caught in her throat as she realized just how pale and weak her father looked, and her eyes watered a bit at the thought of her father, someone who Amy had always thought of as being a hero, looking so frail. Out of everyone in her family, Alan was the one person Amy could always turn to. Every time she came back from break, he was the one to pick her up from the station. He was the one who demanded to know everything about every class and teacher. The two had spent numerous nights simply sitting on the couch talking about various Magical topics. Politics, sports, academics, anything and everything. He was the one person whose love Amy never doubted.

Her father looked at her from over the rim of his glasses, raising an eyebrow at his youngest. "Does it really matter as long as you're here?" his question was simple enough, and she sighed softly. She looked down at the ground before back up at her father who was still looking at her questioningly.

"No Dad," she admitted softly, her eyes losing much of their fire as her hazel eyes met her father's clear blue ones. He nodded once, a smile tugging at his lips. He raising his arms, several tubes attached to various places of his arm, gesturing for his daughter to come towards him. She hesistated for a moment, before launching herself at her father, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. She blinked back tears as her father squeezed her tightly, patting her gently on the back. She swallowed the lump in her throat, refusing to cry after she had already had such a torrent of emotions. She would retain whatever diginity she had left.

She finally pulled back and held her dad at arms length. "Are you sure you're okay?" Amy asked softly, surveying her father's tired face.

"Never better," he announced. He placed a hand over his heart, patting it gently. "My ticker's doing great." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "And so am I now that you're here." Amy smiled faintly before releasing her father from her tight grip. Alan looked at the res of his family. "Now that that's over." She looked over her shoulder at her mother and brothers who were observing the seen between father and daughter. She gave them a careful smile, before settling herself into a sitting position next to her father.

Ann cautiously approached her youngest before pulling the witch into a hug. It was tense for a moment or so before Amy burrowed her head into her mother's neck, inhaling the woman's comforting scent. When they finally released each other, Amy took a deep breath before looking at her brothers. Rich still looked a little peeved at his only younger sibling, but Eric simply swept Amy into a hug, nearly lifting her off the ground. She giggled quietly as he released her.

From the corner of her eye, Amy saw movement from behind the curtain of the door, and she remembered that Charlie was still out there. _'Well,'_ Amy thought desperately, glancing around the room at her family once more. '_There's no time like the present, is there?'_

"I uh," Amy began thickly. She coughed to clear her throat as the eyes of her family landed on her. "I want to introduce you to someone." She swallowed heavily at the looks she received from her family as she crossed the room to the door.

She pulled the door open, peaking her head around the curtain to find Charlie waiting alone outside the door. She noted that Michelle was no longer out there, and she assumed that she had gone to use the restroom or grab a bite to eat. He turned to face her, his red hair shining in the yellow light of the hospital hallway, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Is it time for my funeral?" he asked her blatantly, blinking several times. A passing family glared at him as they entered room next to 721, and Charlie pulled a face. "Kidding," he stage-whispered over his shoulder. Amy saw the one of the visitors shoot him a dirty look as he closed the door to the patient's room, and Charlie looked at her sheepishly. Amy shook her head softly, before holding out a hand to the man.

"Come on," she urged, "before someone calls security for a suspicious man making crude comments on death." Charlie took her hand, allowing his witch to pull him into the hospital room where he was sure he was going to meet his death. He was almost regreting agreeing to come to meet the Wymans, but he figured that since Amy had to deal with his mother on an almost daily basis, he may as well suffer at the hand of her own family.

The eyes of everyone in the room shot up to look at the couple as the entered the room hand in hand. Ann's eyes opened wide while Amy's brothers eye Charlie uneasily. Alan was the only one who didn't seem too perturbed by the appearance of the young man.

"Family," Amy began, and though she started formally, Charlie could hear the light undertone in her voice, "this is Charlie Weasley. Charlie this is family." There was a moment of silence before Amy's dad held out a hand to the man. Charlie spared Amy no glance before stepping forward to shake the man's hand.

"Pleasure to meet you, Charlie," Alan greeted, shaking the wizard's hand firmly. Charlie nodded, a slight smile on his face.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Wyman," Charlie answered, his British accent sounding very odd in the American filled room. Amy noted that her mother's eyebrows raised at the sound of the wizard's deep voice, before turning to Amy to nod approvingly.

Alan waved him off dismissively as he released his hand. "It's Alan." Charlie nodded once, before moving back a few steps. "Sorry that I'm not in my better hospital gown." Charlie chuckled softly.

"No judgement, sir," the wizard assured the father. Amy's mother moved forward now, holding out a hand to the redhead.

"Ann," the short haired woman proclaimed, taking Charlie's hand in hers. When Charlie released her hand, she moved to gesture to Amy's brothers. "These are my sons, Richard and Eric."

Eric stood to shake the wizard's hand but Rich sat down in a huff upon a hard back chair, crossing his arms over his chest very similarly to the way his sister had.

"Don't mind Rich," Eric informed the wizard, "He can be a bit of a teenage girl at times." Rich scowled at his family who were all laughing under their breath.

"Right," he scoffed, "I'm the teenage girl." He rolled his eyes. "Wasn't Amy the one who came in here acting like a five year old ten minutes ago?"

Amy snorted. "Rich, be quiet."

"Why should I?" Amy raised an eyebrow precariously.

"I'm sorry, who's dating my best friend?" She pretended to contemplate this for a moment, enjoying the red that was rushing up her brother's face. "Oh right. You are." Her voice had a colder edge to this, and Charlie could tell that she was still put out that her best friend had been holding back the fact that she was dating her brother. He stepped back from Eric, enveloping her hand in his as inconspicously as possible, yet everyone seemed to notice how Amy's entire body relaxed the second their fingers became entwined. The all turned away as though they had not noticed a thing, but every Wyman in the room knew that there was something certainly… special about this redheaded wizard.

…..

The rest of the day was spent getting to know Charlie or, in Charlie's case, getting to know the Wymans. Jokes and taunts were thrown back and forth between the siblings, and Charlie soon found that he was pulled into this, when Eric made a comment about his hair. Amy's oldest brother quickly shut up when Charlie told him that his beard looked like he had a cat glued to his face. Sometime during the conversation, Michelle reentered the room. She glanced briefly at Amy before taking a seat next to Rich. Amy's stomach clenched rather unpleasantly when the two joined hands, but she turned away, refocusing on the conversation Charlie and Eric were having about the Muggle and Magical politics.

Sometime around five, Rose and Dave returned to the hospital room, tallying the head count of the room up to nine. Each seat was filled and the side tables were taken to be used as stools for the standing. Someone was able to find a deck of cards hidden away in a pocket and soon a full-blown game of Go Fish was under way, Alan's legs being used as a table.

The conversation died down a bit as the players surveyed their cards before looking up to decide who they wanted to pick on.

"So, Amy," Rose broke in, as she fingered the edge of her cards carefully. Amy looked up from over her cards at her sister who was seated on the opposite side of the room, her husband Dave seated at her feet. Though he was over six foot, his head barely cleared the edge of the bed and he looked very much like a little boy with his blonde hair and blue eyes. "How did you get off of work? I mean, does Pigfarts have a lot of substitutes hanging around?"

Amy nearly cut her finger on her playing card. She swallowed heavily, sparing at look a Charlie, who looked back at her.

"Hogwarts, Rosie. Hogwarts," Amy started, scratching her forehead. It had to be the fiftieth time that she had corrected her sister. "And as for getting some time off work, that's actually kind of a funny story." The witch paused as she looked over at Richard. "Jacks please." Rich scowled before handing her a Jack from his hand. She pulled out her own Jack, setting them down. She counted her cards once more, before looking up at her sister, gathering her courage to announce what she was sure would cause an uproar. "I got fired."

Ann sputtered on her drink, coughing as everyone in the room looked up at her in shock, their jaws hanging open.

"You _what?"_ the witch's mother demanded, staring at her youngest daughter. She wiped at her mouth swiftly.

"I got fired," Amy repated carefully before peaking over the edge of the bed at Dave. "Eights?" No one moved, and Amy realized that this was going exactly the way she thought it would. Badly.

"What on earth for?" Alan demanded, setting his cards down my his pillow as he stared intently at his daughter. Amy sighed setting her cards down as well.

"First off, I can honestly say that it was _not _my fault," Amy assured her family, looking from one to the other.

"Yeah, it definitely had nothing to do with the fact that you insulted the Minister or punched Umbridge," Charlie muttered under his breath. Every one know turned to look at the wizard. He looked up to see everyone's eyes on him, and he turned red under their scrutiny.

"You punched someone?" Ann demanded, looking at her daughter in shock. Sure, Amy had been moody and sarcastic as a teen but never violent. She honestly couldn't believe that her daughter would intentionally hurt someone.

Amy held up a hand, a light in her eye. "To be fair, she totally had it coming," Amy argued, her eyes wide so as to convince the group. Charlie nodded in agreement. "She's a total bit-" Amy cut herself off at the look she was receiving from her mother. "-witch. She's a total witch," Amy emphasized, nodding her head hurriedly. "Warts and all."

"That still doesn't give you the right to hit them though!" Ann admonished her daughter loudly. "You know better than that!"

"It's not like I hit her _before _she fired me!" Amy protested, squirming in her seat from all the looks she was getting. "It's more to do with the fact that she implied that 'my kind-'" she put air-quotations around those words, "- were responsible for her being a wretched person."

"Your kind?" Eric asked, peering curiously at his younger sister. Amy turned to face him, nodding slowly.

"Yes, my kind," she repeated carefully, noting the way the Charlie tensed at her words. Her hand immediately gripped his squeezing it tightly. She had not told her parents anything about what was going on in the Magical world in recent months. Sure, they knew that a student of hers had died the previous year, but they all thought it to be an accident brought on by the Triwizard Tournament. They had no idea that there was someone out there who despised people like, well, people exactly like her. She sighed, knowing that she had backed herself into a corner and the only way to get out would be to explain everything to her family.

"In the Magical world, there are three types of witch or wizard," Amy explained. For a moment, she felt as though she was standing before one of her classes, and she immediately felt any nerves she had slowly fade away. "Purebloods, which is a witch or wizard whose family has always had magic running through their veins, and Muggleborns, which is someone who is born into a nonmagical family with magical powers. Someone like me. The third category is a half-blood which is a witch or wizard descended from a Pureblood or a Muggleborn, or any other combination." Her family was looking at her intently, nodding slowly to show that they did understand was she was saying or at least that they had some semblance of understanding.

"Years ago, ancestry was incredibly important and determined how you were seen by your peers, but in more recent years, blood has nothing to do with anything our world," Amy continued. "Yet, there are still some Pureblooded families who believe themselves to be better or superior for their blood. Other families," she supplied, looking pointedly at Charlie, "couldn't care less if a witch's or wizard's parents were a flobberworm." Charlie snorted.

"That would actually explain a lot about some of my classmates," Charlie broke in quietly, his eyes bright at the prospect of a half-flobberworm peer. Amy shook her head, rolling her eyes, as she turned back to her family.

"Anyway," the witch carried on, "about fifty years ago, a Dark Wizard, named Voldemort, came to power with the intent of purifying the Wizarding race. He gathered a group of Pureblooded supporters and together, they set out to wreak havoc on our world. The fear and panic of witches and wizards everywhere fueled his power and for a long time, people believed that he may in fact take control. That is until Halloween about fifteen years ago, this Dark Wizard made an attempt to kill the Potter family. There had been rumors that the Potter's son, Harry, would have the power to destroy Voldemort, so instead of taking his chances the wizard decided to take things into his own hands and kill the boy himself."

Amy took a deep breath, knowing what was coming next. She had heard this very same story year after year during her time at Salem, and even though she had not known the Potter's herself, it still choked her up to think that such a perfectly happy family had been ripped to shreds by evil. She didn't know if she would have the strength to sacrifice herself in the way that Lily Potter had, and she hoped that she would never have to face the decision.

"He broke into the Potter's house and killed James, the father, before he moved onto Lily, who had attempted to escape with her son. In an attempt to save her son, Lily sacrificed herself and was killed before Voldemort moved onto Harry." Amy paused not sure how to continue in her story. Charlie noticed her hesitation and broke in.

"No one's really sure what happened next, although I'm sure many have their theories," the wizard explained. He was leaning forward, his forearms braced against his thighs and his hands clasped together. "What is known is that when You-Know-Who turned his wand onto Harry, the spell rebounded and He was destroyed. Harry survived and was moved to live with Lily's sister until he reached the appropriate age to enter Hogwarts.

"In his first year, Harry was confronted by a fragmented piece of You-Know-Who's soul which had taken over the body of a professor at Hogwarts, and during his second year, it was discovered that You-Know-Who was the last descendant of one of the founders of Hogwarts and had been unleashing the wrath of Slytherin's monster upon the students." Charlie gulped remembering what came next. "You-Know-Who used a diary of his to possess my sister Ginny so that he could perform his deeds in secret. It's because of Harry that she was saved, and it was becoming evident to those involved with these incidents that Voldemort was slowly regaining his power."

"Which became evident last year," Amy broke in, taking a hold of the story again. "Harry's name was entered into the Triwizard Tournament, and during the Final Task, Harry and one of his competitors, C-Cedric, were taken from the maze." Amy swallowed remembering the feeling of dread that had built up within her during the time of the two's disappearance. "Cedric was murdered and Voldemort rose again." There was a sharp intake of breath from the residents of the room, and goosebumps popped up on Amy's skin as she remembered the scene of chaos and despair when Harry had returned to the grounds with a dead Cedric in his arms.

"The Ministry however refused to acknowledge this, despite evidence," Amy continued harshly, her brow furrowed in frustration. "And they decided that it was in the 'best interest of Hogwarts' to instate this awful toad of a woman as a professor. She's been acting as the Ministry's in for months now, and about a week or two ago, she overthrew the headmaster, Dumbledore, and two days later, she fired me."

Amy shook her head angrily, her curls falling in front of her face, before she looked up at her family, who were staring wide-eyed at her and Charlie, not completely believing everything which they had just heard.

"So what does it mean now that this wizard's back?" Rose asked, her blue eyes wide and questioning. "What's going to happen?"

Amy and Charlie looked at eachother, not really knowing what to say. Sure, they knew there was likely to be a war, in fact it was impossible for there not to be a war, but they weren't exactly sure how to tell that to Amy's family.

"We don't really know what is going to happen," Charlie answered slowly, turning to look back at Amy's sister. "There are organizations were are being set up to work against You-Know-Who, but as for right now, all we can really do is wait until the Ministry acknowledges that He is back."

Silence fell over the family, broken only by the insistent beeping of the monitors. No one looked at each other, instead focusing on the playing cards which had been forgotten about during the story. Amy looked down at her own hand, flicking a corner of one of the cards absentmindedly. She had hoped to never have to explain to her family the destruction and racism of her world, and now that she had, the witch was even more fearful over the lives of her family and friends.

The silence was broken only by Alan's yawn, and the family turned to look at the patriarch. He waved them off, yet they all noted the bags under his eyes and that he looked much more somber than he had an hour ago. Ann took one look at her husband, and she gripped his hand tightly in hers before turning back to her kids.

"I think we should call it a night," Ann announced, sparing a glance at her watch. "Visiting hours will be over soon, and it's been a long day, so we should probably start heading out. Your dad has an appointment with the doctors tomorrow morning to talk about what's going to happen in the next few weeks, and he should be well rested, especially because he's going to whine and complain the entire time." Ann smiled fondly at her husband as she said this, while he merely pouted in response.

One by one everyone got up, giving Alan hugs and telling him they would be back tomorrow, until only Amy and Charlie were left behind. Amy hugged her dad tightly, closing her eyes as she practically fell into the embrace, while behind her Charlie was clearing up the cards from the end of the bed.

"Love you, dad," Amy whispered, her eyes watery.

"Love you too, Amy-Boo," Alan replied, squeezing his daughter again. Amy pulled back, flashing her dad a somewhat watery smile before turning to face Charlie and her mother. Amy moved next to Charlie, taking his hand in hers.

"We'll see you back at the house," Amy told her mom who had seated herself at Alan's bedside once more. Ann nodded once, waving good-bye as the witch and wizard exited the room.

They made their way in silence back down the hall to the elevator. The floor was much quieter than it had been when they first arrived, and Amy was beginning to feel rather drowsy. It had been a long day for her. She could barely believe that it had been earlier that day that she had been arguing with Molly Weasley over the Twins. She could feel her eyes growing heavy as the two boarded the elevator, and the witch practically collapsed against Charlie, leaning her head on his shoulder while he wrapped an arm around her to support her. She sighed deeply as the elevator made its way back down the building.

"Thank you for coming with me," Amy murmured, her voice low and soft. Charlie tightened his grip on the witch before resting his head against hers.

"Wouldn't have missed it for the world," he whispered back as the doors to the elevator opened. Slowly, the couple exited the elevator, the doors sliding shut behind them, before they made their way back down the hall to the secretary's desk. The same blonde from before was there, though it appeared as though she was getting ready to leave. When she saw Charlie approaching, she immediately flipped her hair over her shoulder and smiled brightly, despite the fact that Charlie's arm was still wrapped tightly around Amy. After unclipping the visitor's badges from their clothes, the secretary gingerly took the badges from them, making sure that her fingers lingered ontop of Charlie's for a moment too long. Charlie seemed to think nothing of this, merely thanking the woman, but inside, Amy could feel her drowsiness slowly fade away and jealousy burned within her.

It wasn't until they were at the end of the hall that Amy turned to Charlie. He looked down at her curiously and opened his mouth to ask her what was up, when the witch gripped the lapels of his jacket, pulling him down to meet her lips. He was surprised at first that Amy had sprung such a public display of affection towards him, but he eventually gave into the passionate movements of her lips and kissed the witch back. His arms wound around her waist, pulling her close and practically off her feet, while her fingers continued to grip his coat with a fiery intensity. Eventually, the two pulled a way with a slight smack. Charlie stared down at the woman whose eyes were lidded with contentedness and desire.

"What on earth was that for?" Charlie whispered, his voice breathy. Amy smiled softly, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

"Just because," she answered, hugging him tightly. Charlie's forehead wrinkled together a bit, but a smile crossed his face nonetheless. He shrugged before looping an arm around her waist and leading her down the hall. Before the turned the corner to go back in the lobby though, Amy looked over her shoulder at the secretary who was gapping at them, having seen their entire display. The blonde's mouth was dangling open and she looked frustrated. Amy merely waved a hand, her smile turning triumphant.

Very triumphant, indeed.

…..

After arriving home to a quiet house, Amy and Charlie quickly retired to Amy's bedroom. While Amy went to change and brush her teeth in the bathroom, Charlie took a quick look around her room, examining every book, every photo, and every memory. At first glance, it appeared to look like any other normal nerdy girl's room, but upon closer inspection, Charlie was able to find little hints of Amy's magic smattered about the room. Moving photos and Charms textbooks not to mention the occasional American Zonko's toy all displayed the fact that Amy was anything but ordinary.

She was extraordinary.

When Amy came back from washing up, the two climbed into the bed, ignoring the psychedelic patterns of her comforter and the fact that the bed itself was certainly only made for one person. Instead, the two huddled together closely, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. The lights were off and the didn't speak, yet the two were content to merely lay there in the other's arms, as sleep overcame them.

…..

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>There you go! The whole Michelle/Richard thing is based off of a comment that friend made to me once. I was probably in seventh grade or something, and I had rehearsal for this musical and it ran late, so I got a ride home. Anyway, at the next rehearsal two of my cast members (including the girl who Michelle is based upon) came up to me and said:

"Who was that guy that picked you up last rehearsal? He's sooo hot! Is he your boyfriend?"

I think they realized how absurd this idea was after I nearly passed out, and I had to explain to them that the "hot guy" who picked me was in fact my brother and not a boyfriend. Yeah... so...yeah...

Please feel free to review and PM me! I know that there are readers out there, but I would really like to hear what you guys think of the last couple of chapters, so let me know!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	38. Chapter 37

**AN:** Okay, I am supposed to be a smart girl. I mean, I'm a straight A student, so I'm supposed to be smart right? Well no apparently not. Because for some god-forsaken reason, for the past three weeks I've decided it's a good idea to stay up until three a.m. only to get up three hours later for school, and tonight (well, _today) _was no exception. Even though I have finals in the morning. _Finals. _How smart am I?

Again, ignore any typos. I'm too tired to read through this and it appears my computer is too.

**Dedication:** Sigh... happy birthday sister. Only five and a half more years until you get to take me drinking. Unless I go out of state for college, but other than that... get excited.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing you recognize from the great J.K. Rowling.

* * *

><p>The next week or so passed by in much the same way. Each morning, Amy and Charlie would go to the hospital to visit Alan for a few hours. Much of their time there was usually spent playing cards and avoiding any conversation on the Magical world, aside from Charlie's description of his old job in Romania. Alan, who was an avid animal lover, was fascinated at the prospect that there were actual dragons out there in the world, and the two men spent several hours showing off scars and telling every animal related story of their childhood. After leaving the hospital, with promises to return the next day, Amy took Charlie on a different tour of the city. She started with the basics: the Water Towers, Navy Pier, the lake front, all the things that one should see when in Chicago. It was only after he had seen all the tourist hot spots of Chicago that she moved onto places with more sentimental value. She pointed out her Muggle elementary school and the park she went to as a child with her siblings. She made him stop with her at her neighborhood library, and the two spent several hours seated in a corner of the building with a plethora of books spread around them.<p>

Every step and crack in the street seemed to have a different story, and Amy was willing to tell them all, and Charlie was more than glad to listen. She had put up with all of his stories (not to mention that she was forced to teach his siblings- that was something even Charlie didn't think he could handle) and he felt he owed it to her to be as attentive to her tales as possible.

After each of their tourist affairs, the couple would return hand in hand to the Wyman household where usually one of Amy's siblings were waiting. Usually the duo would sit with whoever it was, but on the rare occasion that it was Rich with Michelle, Amy would find some excuse to leave the room, sometimes taking Charlie and other times leaving him with the other couple. While she loved both Rich and Michelle with all her heart, she was still very much unused to the idea of her best friend dating her brother. Richard had been the brother to tease Amy when she was younger, and he took no pity on her friends either. He thought they- meaning Georige, Michelle, and Katherine- were crazy to want to hang out with the likes of her, and he wasn't afraid to express these thoughts. It would have been impossible for Amy to count how many times she and her friends had complained and teased her brother during their routine sleepovers. She just could not fathom how all the dislike the girls had harbored for her sardonic brother could turn to anything romantic. Yet, perhaps the witch wasn't as upset by the fact the two were dating as much as the fact that Michelle had kept it a secret from her. After all, one couldn't help who they loved. Nevertheless, Charlie couldn't help but notice how all the light seemed to vanish from Amy's eye the second she caught sight of Michelle sitting on the couch. The past few weeks had been hard on the witch, and Charlie could tell she was beginning to feel worn from all the chaos of her life. He wished he could help her feel as though she were back in a state of normalcy, and it was one day after she had abruptly left the room that Charlie turned to Michelle, and the two began to devise a plan.

…..

"Are you sure you want to do this, Charlie?" Amy asked again, eyeing her wizard doubtfully. She was seated on her bed while Charlie was rummaging through his bag. The redhead sighed, looking up at the woman. She was sitting crosslegged on her bed in a pair of old sport shorts and one of his shirts. Her hair was mussed up and she was wearing her thick framed glasses. A book rested in her lap, the pages well-worn and dog-earred. She had been reading the novel before Charlie had come into the room, announcing that he had plans for them that night. "Muggle bars are a lot different than Wizarding ones. No butterbeer or firewhisky, and a whole lot of randy guys who like to scream nonsense at eachother."

"Doesn't sound too different from a Wizard one then, does it?" he shot back, before digging his hands back into his bag. He left out a noise of triumph as he pulled out a slightly wrinkled dress shirt. Stripping off his Weasley sweater, the wizard slipped the shirt on, rolling the sleeves up to his elbows. He was just beginning to button up the shirt when he noticed that Amy was staring at him, her face torn between desire and apprehension, as she eyed his chest and abs lustfully. When she noticed that Charlie had caught her stare, she blushed, dropping her head to look back at her book. She flipped a few pages absentmindely, her shoulders slumped. He sighed, dropping his hands away from his shirt before crossing the room so he was just in front of the witch.

"Listen," he started, looking down at the woman, who in turn stared up at him carefully. "Tonight is just supposed to be fun. A way for you to take your mind off of things." He softly brushed a stray curl behind her ear, hiding the shiver that wanted to run through him at the feel of her smooth skin against his. "It's not meant to get you all worked up, so if you really don't want to go, I'm okay with that, alright?" Though his words were sincere, his blue eyes were light and gentle, and he pouted slightly. Amy groaned for over the years he had perfected his puppy-dog look, and the witch found herself getting lost in the clear pools. She pressed her lips together, squinting her own eyes at the wizard, before her shoulders dropped and she sighed.

"Alright, alright," she agreed, throwing her hands up in surrender. Anything to stop his puppy-dog eyes. "I'll go." Charlie's eyes brightened considerably, and his face broke out into a wide, goofy smile.

"Yes!" he cried, pumping his fist into the air in victory. He did a bit of a victory dance, his shirt flying about him ridiculously, showing off his very much not ridiculous muscular stomach. She swallowed, an bravely continued.

"On one condition though," she broke into his chant, drawing the wizard's attention back to her. He dropped his hand, but his smile remained.

"Anything," he promised, dropping to his knees in front of the witch. He clasped her hands in his, squeezing them tightly. A smile of her own began to creep its way onto Amy's face, and she leaned close to the wizard until they were but inches apart. Her mouth was close to his ear, and several loose tresses of her hair fell onto his chest, causing him to shiver.

"Kiss me," she murmured, her breath washing over him, and goosebumps erupted across the man's body. He refrained from shuddering, before pulling away a bit until their noses brushed together. He looked her right in the eye, his lips twitching slightly as he stared at the pretty witch.

"As you wish," he whispered, before leaning in and kissing her. They started slow, their lips moving over the other's gently and softly. Eventually however, lust seemed to over take the two, and Charlie rose up from his kneeling postion and pushed the witch back onto her bed. With her lips still on the wizard's, Amy threw her forgotten book to the side before allowing her hands to roam freely. They started at his neck, caressing the curls on the nape of his neck, before slowly moving down to the his chest. Charlie bit back a groan as her soft hands grazed over his muscles in languid strokes. He pressed his lips harder against hers, nipping at her bottom lip, as his hands dropped to her hips, pulling her against him passionately. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her waist, and the witch groaned slightly, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck to keep him as close to her as possible. One of Charlie's hands wound their way up the witch's body and into her hair. He pulled lightly on her hair, before pulling his lips from hers and placing them onto her neck, where they began to nip and suckle the soft flesh. Amy whimpered, pulling at the wizard's own hair as he placed lazy, fluttering kisses down her neck.

Moaning under her breath, Amy pulled at the lapels of Charlie's shirt, pulling his lips back up to hers. As she pressed her lips to his, her fingers began to pull back the sleeves of Charlie's shirt, lower and lower down his arms, until the shirt lay on the bed next to the forgotten book. While her hands continued to move curiously over his chest, Charlie moved his hands from her hair and back around her waist. His fingers slipped under her shirt, splaying across the soft skin of her back. The witch groaned, arching into him, and seizing his hair once again, Amy flipped them over with a small giggle, so that it was Charlie who now lay on his back upon a mess of sheets. She straddled his waist, pulling away from him so as to smirk tauntingly from above him, before Charlie growled and wrapped an arm around her neck to pull her down to his lips again.

She smiled against his lips, moaning softly as he deepened the kiss. His hand continued to make lazy circles on her lower back while the other hand played with the loose curls on her neck. Bravely, Charlie gripped the hem of her shirt in his hand, and began to slowly (almost agonizingly) pull the shirt up, up, up…

The door to Amy's bedroom shot open, and the couple pulled apart. Rich poked his head into the room, eyeing the two's position, before shaking his head. Amy swallowed while Charlie's face grew red, and he realized that not only was he shirtless, but Amy's legs were wrapped precariously around his torso, and her lips were swollen and a bright red. Richard, who despite having obviously walked in on a rather intimate scene between the two, merely looked at them nonchalantly.

"We're leaving in twenty minutes," he informed them casually, ignoring his sister's embarrassed look. He made to close the door, but paused looking at the couple again. "You may wish to put some clothes on." He eyed the two pointedly, before shutting the door with a snap.

Silence fell over the two and neither moved as their blushes slowly faded away. Swallowing, Amy turned to look down a Charlie, whose fingers were still hanging onto the hem of her shirt. She bit her lip as she looked down at him, smiling softly.

"Perhaps we _should _get ready."

…..

Exactly twenty minutes later, Amy and Charlie found themselves walking down the street, following in the wake of Michelle and Richard. Amy hadn't realized at first that Michelle would be coming with them, but she should have assumed so when Rich had announced he was coming with them. It only made sense. Amy attempted to ignore the couple ahead of her instead choosing to point out different things to Charlie as they walked down the moonlit street. Though Charlie did listen to everything Amy was saying, the witch noted that he did seem a bit distant and wrapped up in his own thoughts. She paused mid-sentence, turning to look at the wizard.

"Is something wrong, Red?" she asked, surveying his face as he looked over at her. His eyes were bright in the moonlight, and to Amy, there appeared to be a hint of anxiety in his eyes, although over what she had no idea. He shrugged, mumbling something under his breath which Amy couldn't quite hear. They continued to walk closely behind Rich and Michelle, and Amy watched him from the corner of her eye. Something seemed to strike her, and she stopped in her steps.

"This isn't about Rich walking in on us earlier, is it?" she inquired, tugging on Charlie's arm so that he would stop too. Immediately, Charlie's face turned red at the mention of their interrupted moment. "Because if it makes you feel any better, he's not going to say anything-"

"Damnstraight, I'm going to say something!" Richard broke in, turning around to face the duo. "Mom's gonna kill you."

Amy whipped her head around to face her brother coolly. "And what about all the times I walked in on _you_, Rich?" she demanded, her eyes flashing. "I mean, the number of stories I have about you and your numerous exploits-"

"Alright," Rich protested, his eyes widening at the prospect. "Neither of us says a word." He turned back to face forward, but didn't miss the look Michelle was giving him. He blushed, rubbing the back of his sheepishly. "It wasn't that many," he assured the shorter girl. She pressed her lips together in amusement.

"You must have forgotten," Michelle teased the man. "Amy and I are best friends, so any and every dirty secret she had on you was told to me." Rich's ruddy expression slipped from his face into one of horror, and he began to sputter in indignation. Michelle caught Amy's eye over her shoulder, winking, and the two woman dissolved into quiet giggles. Charlie shook his head, squeezing Amy's hand tightly.

"These women are going to be the death of me," Rich muttered repeatedly under his breath. He kept up this mantra until the group reached the neighborhood bar. Politely, as though in an attempt to regain some dignity or perhaps points from his girlfriend, Rich opened the bar door, allowing Michelle to enter, before following after her, but not before shooting a dirty look at his sister. Amy tugged on Charlie's hand, stopping him from following the other couple into the bar. He paused, looking back at the witch with a raised eyebrow.

She smiled softly, pulling him so that he was facing her full on. "Don't worry about Rich," Amy assured the wizard, squeezing his hand tightly. "I know how to keep him in line, and in all honesty, he knows that I'm a grown-up and that I can make my own decisions, so he doesn't really care." She urged him a bit closer to her, the witch's arms slipping around his waist. "Alright?"

Charlie eyed Amy's hopeful face before leaning down to kiss her gentle. Her eyes fluttered shut and she deepened the kiss everso slightly. He pulled away after a moment, and the witch groaned, wishing for more. Her eyes slowly opened in a hazel haze, meeting Charlie's clear eyes.

"Alright," he whispered, kissing her lightly on the nose. He smiled down at her, before wrapping an arm around her shoulder. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as he pulled the door open. It still amazed him how perfectly she molded into his body, but this thought was quickly shoved from his mind as squeals filled the bar.

"AMY!" Charlie barely had enough time to release the witch before she was bombarded by two giggling women in a flash of long hair and color. No one in the bar noticed the embrace between friends, two of who were giggling and chattering away while the third tried to grasp her surrroundings. Amy finally managed to pull away from the two enough to place faces to the voices, and a smile spread brightly across the witch's face.

"Georgie? Kate?" she asked, her eyes bright and surprise evident in her voice. She was answered by the loud combination of twittering voices as her best friends tried to make themselves heard over the other. From across the trio's head, Charlie could see Michelle sitting next to Rich, with her head resting on the man's shoulder. She caught Charlie's eye and smile softly.

"Thank you," he mouthed to the woman. While it had been his idea to get Amy and her friends together before the couple left, it had been Michelle who had done all the leg work, not to mention helped him to keep it a secret from his witch. It was nearly impossible for the wizard not to notice how Amy's eyes lit up every time she told a story about the girls' escapades, and he wanted to give her at least one night of uncontested joy for they would soon be returning to the lives' in England. This trip to Chicago, though emotionally rough, had been a great escape for the witch, and Charlie was thrilled to have been a part of it. If there was one thing he truly wanted in the world, it was for Amy to be happy, because he… he really did love her. There was no doubt in his mind or his heart about that. It wasn't until he met Amy that he finally understood just what it meant to feel unconditional love for someone outside of his family. He wondered if every man in love felt the same way he did. The rapidly beating heart, the sweaty palms, the flurry of thoughts every time she walked in the room. He doubted that a man could ever be as in love as he was with Amy.

Charlie was pulled from his thoughts as the trio of girls finally pulled apart amidst their giggles and chatter. Amy looked over her shoulder, catching his eye. She gave a small jerk of her head, her smile bright, as she urged him forward. He shrugged before shoving himself off the wall and into the fray of strangers and drinkers. He appeared unnoticed by the other two women at Amy's side, his hand slipping almost naturally into hers. Several moments passed before the two woman seemed to notice his appearance and they fell silent, blinking owlishly at the man, before noting their friend's hand clasped in his. Slowly, they turned to Amy, their eyes wide with questions.

"Guys, this Charlie," Amy began swiftly, ignoring the looks she was receiving from her friends. "Charlie, this is Georgie Kotas and Katherine Russell, two _very _good friends of mine." Charlie raised a hand in greeting, drawing the attention of the two women who stared up his, their mouths opened slightly. He waited a moment, but when he received no response from the two, he allowed his hand to drop awkwardly to his side, nodding slightly. He had suspected that Amy's friends may be a bit… quirky, but this was simply strange.

"You witch!" the brunette proclaimed loudly, pointing accusingly at Amy. "You did abandon us at Christmas for some guy!" Though her tone may have suggested that the woman was angry, the brunette was oddly gleeful . Charlie raised an eyebrow and was about to say something when the blonde broke in, shaking her head disdainfully.

"And here we were thinking about buying you a chicken to keep your lonesome butt company," she complained, huffing at the thought that her friend had the audacity to get a boyfriend when she had been so willing to provide one for her. It didn't matter that the blonde's idea of a boyfriend for the witch had feathers and clucked. Amy rolled her eyes at her friends, who continued to huff and complain a few minutes longer, before turning to Charlie. The blonde was the first one to speak directly to him.

"Well, seeing as you've taken the place of Amy's chicken," she started, sniffing slightly, "I guess I better get to know you, huh?" She held out a hand, a smile crossing her face immediately and all semblance of indignation leaving her. "Kate." Charlie shook her hand, before turning to the brunette- who he now realized to be the infamous Georgie- who was still gapping and shaking her head at Amy.

Georgie, noting that everyone had turned to her, held out a hand to the wizard. "Georgie!" she proclaimed, winking at the guy. Amy rolled her eyes at her friend as she plowed on. "I'm basically that only compeition you'll ever have with Amy-Boo here! I am also the keeper of all of her secrets, so if you ever need to get some revenge on her-"

"How could you be the keeper of all of her secrets if she didn't even tell you she was dating?" Kate broke in, blinking at the brunette, who held up a finger.

"I'm sorry, but uh maybe I did know," Georgie exclaimed with an obvious _'duh'_ tone to her voice. Kate turned to Amy, her eyebrow raised.

"Did she?" she asked, her skinny, skinny arms crossed over chest. Amy merely looked at the blonde, not saying a word, and Kate turned triumphantly back to Georgie, who now looked downtrodden.

"Amy!" Georgie whined. "We've been over this! I am your best friend. Whatever I say goes." Amy snorted, smiling at the frowning woman.

"Georgie, you've been saying that since we were three," Amy reminded the brunette, placing a hand on her shoulder. "When has that ever happened?" Georgie pouted a bit, before brightening instantaneously. She always was one to bounce back quickly.

"Drinks!" she cried, turning away from the group in search of the bartender. "We need drinks!" Georgie skillfully manuevered her way through the crowd of people in search of drinks, while Kate led the witch and wizard to the table where Rich and Michelle were seated. This was honestly one of Charlie's first real Muggle experience, and Amy did not fail to notice how he fidgeted a bit in his seat, and his fingers anxiously tapped his leg, just below the pocket which Amy knew concealed his wand. She shot him a look, smiling softly just as Georgie returned with beers in hand. She passed them out to those at the table before sitting down next to Amy.

"To friends!" Georgie cried, raising her mug to the center of the table. The others laughed before raising their own mugs in cheers.

"To friends!"

…..

It was after several rounds that Charlie found himself surrounded by quite a few drunk people. While he wouldn't say Amy was full out wasted, she was certainly much more tipsy and clumsier than usual, that was for sure. Amy's friends and brother however were undeniably rowdy and Charlie doubted it was because of the bar nuts. Their words were beginning to slur together, and he was surprised that Georgie hadn't fallen from her seat yet in her stupor. While Charlie had been keeping up with their drinking, the wizard found that he wasn't as affected by the Muggle liquor as he was by his usual Firewhisky, something he found he was rather happy with. Getting drunk in the Wizarding world was one thing, he could always Floo home, but in the Muggle world? Getting home would be an adventure in itself.

Amy leaned over precariously, her mouth close to Charlie's. "I think it's about time to start heading home," she whispered, her words quiet over the ruckus of the bar. She pulled back a bit, and Charlie noted her drowsy eyes and how she moved side to side as if of her own accord. He smiled a bit, nodding at the witch. Amy reached into her cardigan to pull out her wallet. When Richard noticed her doing this, he looked at his watch, before nodding and pulling out his own wallet. Together, the two gathered up enough money to pay for the tab which had been built up over the night. As Rich went to pay the bill, Amy wobbled to her feet and began to gather up her drunken friends. Kate and Michelle were rather easy to round up, but Georgie was a bit more rambunctious and alluded capture as she flitted around the bar, giggling manically the entire time. Amy remembered once vowing never to go drinking with Georgie again, especially after an incident at Michelle's 21st birthday party, but apparently the witch had assumed Georgie would get over her liquor-induced party attitude.

She had not in the slightest.

Amy was about to give up hope of ever gather Georgie up when Charlie appeared, seemingly from no where. He grasped the drunken brunette's arm in his hand, and together, Amy, Rich, and him led the other girls out of the bar and to the chilly sidewalk. From there, Rich was able to catch and cab, and once he had assured Amy and Charlie that the girls would get home safe and sound, the couple began their walk back to the Wyman house. Every few steps, Amy would stumbled and giggle, and Charlie would sigh, before finally he wrapped an arm around the witch's waist to ensure that she would not fall flat on her face.

When they reached the dark house, Charlie fished Amy's keyes out of the depths of her cardigan and carefully led her up the stairs, the witch tripping and wobbling up every step into the house. It wasn't until they were actually inside the sleeping house that Amy decided to allow sleep and her drunkenness to overcome her, and she collapsed. She would've landed face first into the scratchy carpet if Charlie hadn't caught the witch around the waist. Sighing grumpily, Charlie shut the door behind him with his foot, waiting for it to close with a reaffirming snap, before daring to try and help the witch. Keys still in hand, Charlie shifted Amy until he was able to get her in a somewhat standing position, and from there he scooped the woman up from under her knees. She fell comfortably against his chest, and Charlie carefully manuevered his way through the maze of books, efficently avoiding Ollie the cat who tried to entangle his way between Charlie's feet, and into the witch's bedroom.

Gently, he dropped the witch onto her bed before turning to shut the door to her room behind him. Despite the darkness of the house, Charlie was still able to make out the shapes of his witch in the room, the streetlamps outside acting as his guide. Quietly, he slipped out of his shoes and when he made his way across the room to change out of shirt, Amy groaned and rolled over.

"Charlie?" she murmured into the darkness. She opened her eyes blearily, straining to find the wizard in the din. He straightened up from his position over his bag, and shuffled across the room.

"Yes, Amy?" he whispered softly, brushing a curl behind her hair. The witch shivered at his light touch, before reaching up to grasp his hand in hers. She tugged him a bit closer until he was leaning down over her, bracing himself with his arms pressed against the pillow on either side of her head. She smiled softly up at him, and he noticed that sleep was beginning to overcome her again.

"I think I love you," she murmured as her eyes fluttered shut, her hand still wrapped around Charlie's wrist. The wizard froze, allowing the words to sink into him before a smile of his own broke out across his face. He looked down at the sleeping witch.

"I think I love you too," he uttered gently to her sleeping form. His lips twitched ever so slightly as she snored a bit, before he pulled himself from her grasp and continued to change. After pulling on a pair of pajama pants and removing his dress shirt, Charlie pulled off Amy's shoes before climbing into bed with the witch. He wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging the still sleeping witch as close to him as possible. He pressed his face into her mellifluous curls, and he smiled as sleep began to overtake him as well.

"I think I love you too."

...

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Hope you enjoyed! You've got plenty of Charlie/Amy and Amy's wacky friends, so... yep.

GOOD NIGHT.

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	39. Chapter 38

**AN: **FINALS ARE OVER! Sweet baby Jesus... finally! Anyway, in celebration of the completion of my first year of high school (as well as the fact that I am 99% sure I finished with straight A's), here is the next chapter! I hope everyone enjoys! I must get back to my celebratory Harry Potter Movie Marathon!

**Dedication:** Congratulations class of 2012!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing you recognize.

* * *

><p>Alan was released from the hospital two days after the bar rendezvous with specific orders of to eat healthy meals and to get plenty of rest. Unfortunately, Amy's father was not exactly one to follow the rules (something that he had passed onto his youngest), and within hours, the father was up and about, meandering through the house and chewing on a Snickers bar. Ann had tried to freeze all the candy bars to dissuade her husband from eating them, but he plowed through the chocolate any way. Alan's return home was an obvious relief to the entire Wyman family, and the next day or so was filled with light hearted teasing and laughs.<p>

Alas, Charlie and Amy knew that they were going to have to start wrapping up their visit. Amy's dad was home and doing well, and Molly had started bombarding her son with letter after letter. She wanted to know how things were going, if he was eating enough (with if the lack of food in the Wyman house had anything to say, he most certainly was), when he'd be home, etc, etc. The wizard suspected that she was on the verge of a mental breakdown and since a sane Molly Weasley was crazy enough, he most definitely did not want to see a mentally unhinged Weasley witch. He had suggested to Amy that perhaps he return back to London on his own so that she could have a few days to herself with her family, but the witch shot that idea down immediately. She explained to him that the only reason her family seemed the least bit tolerable was because he was there with her, and there was no way in hell she was staying there without him. He teasingly suggested that she was against the idea simply because she would miss him too much, but he quickly shut up when she gave him a pointed look. And so, he went to inform his mother that he'd be returning in a day or so, though he made no mention of Amy or his travels.

On the eve of Amy's and Charlie's return to London, the Wyman family gathered together in the den of the home. Admist board games and a plethora of food, the family argued and teased each other back and forth. It was just before seven when Ann decided to pull out the family photo albums, and all of her children groaned.

"Mom, come on!" Eric begged, scratching at his shaggy beard. "We've seen the photos! There's no need to get all nostalgic on us!"

"It's not like anything has changed since the last time," Rich reminded her, pointing disdainfully at the photo album in his mother's hand. "We're all still just going to be a bunch of babies and toddlers with horrible fashion sense."

"Hey!" Rose protested indignantly, looking over her husband to glare at Rich. "I was the one who dressed you guys in the morning!"

"That actually explains so much!" Amy broke in with conviction. "I mean look at you!" Eric and Rich snorted as Rose huffed, crossing her arms and hrowing herself back into her seat. Dave slung an arm over her shoulders, while her siblings continued to try and convince their mother not to open the books. Charlie looked from sibling to sibling with amusement. He didn't really get what the big deal was, and while he would never admit this for fear of death, he wouldn't mind seeing some embarrassing photos of his witch.

"All of you shut up!" Ann cried over the siblings. She banged her fist against the front of the album as though she was a judge in court. "My house, my rules!"

Alan turned to look at her. "Isn't it our house?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh please Dad," Amy laughed rolling her eyes at her father's apparent silliness. "You know Mom can't share." Ann pouted indignantly, while Alan merely chuckled, leaning back into the pillows.

"Just for that," Ann sneered, "I better get out the other albums too." Everyone groaned in unison, and Rich and Eric simultaneously threw pieces of their left over dinner at her. The witch ducked to avoid getting his with a large piece of biscuit.

"Thanks a lot, sis," they moaned despondently, huffing as they realized that they had also just lost some of their precious food.

Amy fell back against Charlie, allowing her head to roll onto his shoulder as Ann opened the photo album to several pictures of Rose and Eric in a bath tub together. Those in the photos, groaned, blushing a bright red, as Ann cooed at the baby pictures. The spot light hadn't even been turned onto Amy yet and she was already feeling embarrassed. Looking up at the ceiling fan, the witch began to chant under her breath.

"Dear Merlin, why me? Just kill me."

Over and over, the woman repeated this as her mother continued to go through the photos, squealing every so often. Charlie snorted at Amy's new mantra and threw an arm over her shoulder, pulling her closer to him.

"Just kill me. Just kill me. Just kill-"

Amy broke off as two bright, white flashes filled the room. Her eyes shot open and she sat up, drawing her wand from her pocket, as Charlie did the same thing, his body growing rigid at the thought of an attack. The two had tried to refrain from using too much magic in the house because they didn't want to alert any possible Dark Wizards that Amy's family had any magical relations. It was too dangerous, too messy, and Amy feared that in her absence something may happen to her family. The entire Wyman family stopped whatever they were doing and watched as two identical, corporeal wolf patronuses floated into the room. The bright apparitions floated to the middle of the room, landing right before the witch and wizard. They spared a look at eachother, before the wolves began to speak in unison in the a voice that was clearly Remus Lupin's.

"_Death Eaters in the Department of Ministry. Come immediately. Harry needs our help."_

The wolves vanished in a flash of light, as bright as when they came. A moment of silence passed over the family before everyone turned to look at Amy and Charlie. Amy felt her heart leap into her throat as she tried to comprehend what had just happened. Her breathing grew labored and in an instant she was on her feet, Charlie not a moment behind her.

"What the hell is he thinking?" Amy demanded, her eyes wide and frustrated. "Why would he leave Hogwarts with Umbridge in control and Voldemort out there?" Charlie didn't even flinch at Voldemort's name. She paused, thinking quickly. "He has O.W.L.s!" she cried as an after thought. "What is he thinking?"

Charlie ignored the witch's rambling. "That doesn't matter," he reminded her, his fingers twitching to remove his wand. "We just need to get there and fast." His words were terse, and when Amy looked at him she saw something in his eyes that frightened her. He was scared and he shuffled back and forth nervously.

"Wait, Charlie," Amy protested, trying to figure out what was going through his head. "What is it?" He swallowed thickly.

"Think about it," he sighed, running a hand roughly through his hair. "Where Harry goes, who is likely to follow?" Amy shut her eyes as the answer hit her. Of course, how could she forget?

"Ron." Charlie nodded stiffly, and she could tell that he was biting down on his cheek to stop from exploding at the idea of his youngest brother outside of Hogwarts' protection.

"Wait, what's happening?" Ann demanded, pushing aside the photo album from her lap. She looked from the couple to the spot where the apparitions had been minutes ago. "What were those?"

Amy looked at Charlie, licking her lips. He was anxious to get back to his family, and she knew it.

"Go," she urged him. He cocked his head and made as though to protest but Amy cut him off. "We can't show up together, so you go first and I'll follow after, okay?" He pursed his lips together, obviously not liking the idea, but she gripped his arm tightly to reassure him. "Go." She dropped her hand away from his forearm and with a nod and a turn, he was gone.

With Charlie gone, Amy now turned to her family who were still a bit in shock. "I've got to go," she told them, swallowing heavily. "Something's happened, and they need all hands on deck." She pointed her wand at the suitcases in the corner, and they vanished with a pop back to her apartment. Ann stood up now.

"What's happening?" she repeated, looking her daughter in the eye. Her tone was serious and Amy knew she wouldn't be able to leave until she gave her mother some sort of explanation. She sighed, looking at the clock on the wall before back at her family.

"Some students of mine have left Hogwarts, for reasons currently unknown, and it appears that they've gotten into the Ministry of Magic," she explained as quickly and as vaguely as she could. "Apparently, something has happened and some of Voldemort's followers are there too. Charlie and I have to help because we're part of a group who are fighting against Voldemort." She looked at the clock again. "That's all I can say, because I really need to go." She swallowed her gaze going from one family member to the next before returning to her mother. "I'll send an owl in a day or so."

Ann's eyes were bright with tears, as they always were when her daughter left and she held out her arms for a hug, but Amy had already turned on her heel, and her childhood home and family was gone in a blur of color.

…..

Amy landed just outside the kitchen door of Grimmuald Place. Her head was spinning and she blinked several times to clear her vision. She could hear loud voices from just within the door, and she could clearly identify Sirius' infuriated tone. The witch didn't wait a moment longer before pushing her way through the door. Amy was met by the sight of a pacing Sirius and Remus appeared to be trying to placte the wizard. The two appeared to be arguing between each other, while Charlie, Tonks, and Kingsley remained in the shadows of the kitchen.

"What do you mean I can't go?" Sirius demanded. "I sure as hell am going! Harry's my godson, and I'm not going to stay here while the rest of you go off to save him!" The wizard's eyes were flashing dangerously, and for the first time, Amy saw exactly what it was that made people think he was crazy.

"That's exactly why you _shouldn't _go," Remus protested. "You are his godfather, but you're also a wanted criminal, and it's probably not the best idea to be taking you to the Ministry of Magic when you're wanted by all of Britain."

"I don't care," Sirius sneered, lashing out at his best friend. "I'm going." Remus looked as though he were about to argue when Kingsley broke in.

"That doesn't matter now," he contested, his deep voice loud over Sirius' huffing. "What matters is that we leave immediately for the Ministry." He looked around at the others, making sure that they understood what he was saying. "It's best that we Apparate directly into the Ministry, right into the Department of Mysteries. Harry and the others are waiting for us, and it's best if we leave sooner rather than later."

The others moved in from the corners of the room, closer to the fire. No one had really noticed Amy until she joined them in the middle. Tonks spared her a small smile at the sight of her friend. Though the situation was dire, the witch's hair was still its normal bubblegum pink.

"Where exactly have you been?" Tonks demanded, raising an eyebrow curiously. Amy looked at Sirius who was tapping his foot impatiently, before looking back at the Metamorphagus. Hey eyes flashed over to Charlie very briefly before back at Tonks.

"I'll tell you later."

Then, for the second time in ten minutes, Amy turned on her heel and Disapparated with the others.

The Order members landed in the shadow depths of the Department of Mysteries, and immediately, their arms were raised, wands in their hands. Amy's eyes quickly surveyed the room, taking in the small pieces of glass scattered on the floor, wisps of powdery white smoke rising like steam from off of the glass. She stepped forward a bit, glass crunching under her shoes and she flinched at the sound. No one in the group moved for a moment, simply taking in the broken scene around them. Amy probably could have stood their all day, observing the broken glass and knocked over shelves, but shouts and bangs from several rooms over.

In a flash, the member of the Order sprinted towards the direction of the sounds, leaving Moody to clunk hurriedly behind them with Sirius in the lead. Amy's breath was coming quick and heavy as she followed Harry's godfather through the maze of overturned bookshelves. As the ran further and further into the department, the noises grew louder. There were several doorways off a hallway and they all paused for a moment before Lupin stepped forward, pointing at a door labeled Time Room.

"In here," he ordered. He flicked his wand and the door burst open, allowing the witches and wizards to enter the room in a swarm. Though this room was not as bad as the previous hall, there was still plenty of broken glass and it was obvious that there had been some dueling in the room. Burns and blood marred the floor, and Amy gulped at the bloody smell of iron that reached her. Coughing slightly, the witch followed the others into the room. Amy was halfway through the room when Tonks let out a cry from behind her. She whipped around, her wand aloft, searching for her pink haired friend in the shadows. The Metamorphmagus was standing over a body, and relief filled Amy as she noted that the form was much too big to be that of a student's. The others swarmed around them, though Amy observed that Sirius was looking around the room for signs of his nephew.

"It's Dolohov," Kingsley announced, kneeling down to nudge the Dark wizard with his wand. Dolohov's face rolled to the side and Amy could now clearly see the twisted face which had been plastered in the _Daily Prophet_ months before. "Body-binding curse." He looked up at the others, straightening himself up. "We should keep going."

No one said anything before turning away and continuing through the hall in search of any Hogwarts' student. The room appeared to be empty, and Amy brushed back a strand of her hair, sighing.

"They're not here!" the witch called out. She sighed, turning away from her corner of the room to find the others. "We should keep-"

Amy broke off as something came tumbling from the corner of the room. It was wailing and bawling, and Amy screamed in panic, brandishing her wand at whatever was coming towards her. She worried for a moment that it may be student, before noting that it was much too tall to be a student, and her nerves calmed themselves. The thing went rigid before collapsing into a pile of books and dust. Though her breathing was heavy and ragged, Amy was able to hear the others hurrying to where she was, stumbling and fumbling over the broken wood of desks and shelves.

"Amy," Charlie gasped, skidding to a halt behind the witch. A small cloud of dust burst up as the others fell into line behind him. His free hand fell to her lower back, though no one noticed as they stared down at the thing. While the stature of the thing suggested that it was an adult, the head was horrifyingly small and baby-like, complete with bright blue eyes and peach-fuzz hair. Amy shuddered at the thought that she had just attacked a baby or at least something resembling a baby. She looked up in horror at the others, feeling like a horrible person.

"What the hell is this?" she breathed, looking down at the disfigured body once more. They all lookd up at her, their eyes wide. Before anyone could reply, screams revebrated through the room and everyone's attention was drawn away from the baby-man and towards the door at the end of the hall. The others took off, and Amy spared one last glance behind her before following after the others, skidding on glass the entire way. They crashed through the door only to find themselves in the middle of a circular room. Doors lined the walls and they all stopped, looking from door to door and then back again. The room began to spin around them, and when they stopped they weren't sure what door they had just come from.

All they could hear was curses and screams although from which door they couldn't be sure. Kingsley rushed forward, pointing his wand at a door. It burst open revealing a motionless room. He continued pointing at each door, throwing it open to reveal broken glass and blood, yet each one as empty as the last. The wizard was almost through each door when the screams of pain erupted in the silence. Amy and the others froze, cringing at the earsplitting shrieks. Shrieks that could only be caused by a curse that they all knew. Rapidly, Kingsley threw open the last door and gasped.

The Order members flooded into the room behind the Auror, wands raised. Water drenched the floor and what appeared to be pieces of brain matter where scattered across the tiles. Amy's eyes flitted from one thing to the next before she noticed the bodies sprawled across the floor. One of the bodies was wrapped tightly in the tentacles of what appeared to be a deformed brain, and the figure was thrashing from side to side, struggling to escape from its bonds.

Flicking her wand at the figure, Amy shot a spell at the brain and the organ began to shrivel up, tighter and tighter together before it exploded into a pink mist. The once struggling figure fell motionless and it was only then that Amy saw he had red hair. Her gaze moved from one red head to the next, though this one had a long mane of red, before onto a blonde and a very bushy, haired brunette.

Charlie stumbled forward a bit, his eyes moving from Ron to Ginny. Fear gripped him, as he saw his youngest siblings worn and torn. He appeared to be torn himself on who to go to, but his decision was thrown aside as Remus moved towards Ron. The werewolf knelt down next to the water drenched, shuddering boy. As he waved his wand over Ron, Charlie tumbled forward, before kneeling beside his sister. He too drew his wand, before pointing at his sister's chest, determined to revive her. Amy and Tonks spared a glance towards each other before moving onto the two girls on the other side of the room.

While Tonks moved towards Luna Lovegood, a fourth year who Amy recognized to be a quirky Ravenclaw, the ex-Charms teacher moved towards Hermione. Though she appeared to have no definite injuries, Amy carefully waved her wand over the girl. She couldn't do much without knowing what had exactly happened to the girl, but she could at least stablize the young witch before moving her to the infirmary. Around her, Amy heard the distinct noises of the awakening students, yet Amy did not revive Hermione in fear of doing more damage. Amy turned around to survey the damage.

"Charlie?" Ginny croaked, looking weakly up at her older brother. "What are you doing here?" She tried to sit up but flinched, falling back onto her side. Charlie worriedly grasped her elbow, and she pointed weakly down at her ankle, which Charlie noted to be twisted at a very odd angle and was beginning to turn a brillant purple. Keeping a firm grip on his sister, Charlie pointed his wand at the obviously broken ankle, and Ginny turned away as he murmured a spell.

"_Ferula,_" he muttered, a purplish haze appearing over her ankle. It hovered there for a moment before fading away, leaving behind a tight cast and bindings. Ginny sighed in obvious relief, looking sheepishly up at her brother. He looked down at her, pressing his lips together before turning to look at Ron. The wizard had bruises of his own up and down his arms, and he too was still asleep. Remus looked up at Charlie, shrugging slightly.

"He should be okay," he informed the brother, and Amy could practically see some stress wash off of him. He broke off as screams filled the air, and everyone whipped around to look at the door at the end of the room.

Charlie stood precariously, turning to point a finger at Ginny, who looked slightly disgruntled at his accusing finger. He looked down his nose at his only sister, his eyes never straying from hers.

"You stay here," he ordered. Ginny pouted slightly but said nothing as her brother turned away, following the other Order members to the end of the hall and to the door where the screams were escaping from. Adrenaline was building up within in the witch, and when she peered around at her fellow Order members, she could see that they all had fierce looks of determination on their faces. They were completely prepared to throw themselves into whatever may lie before them, and if the smashed glass and injuried students had anthing to say, it would not be an ueasy fight.

No one dared to pause before they burst through the door. There was a moment when they were incompassed in darkness and a death-like cold before a set of stairs appeared. Tonks looked down and shot off a spell beneath her. As they jumped from step to step, Amy peered precariously over the edge. She could see Harry surrounded by a group of Death Eaters. One of the wizards had his arms wrapped tightly around a struggling figure, and it was only as they descended further down the steps that Amy saw that is was Neville Longbottom. At the sound of the Order's pounding feet, the wzizards all turned to look up at them, and Amy could see that Harry's hand was wrapped tightly around a smoky orb. As the drew closer, spells began to fly and Amy lost sight of the students in the flashes of light.

The second Amy's feet hit the floor, her wand was aloft and she shot a Stunner off towards one of the Death Eaters. It crashed into a wall, dust and debris falling over them, and then they were lost in the fray. As Sirius and Remus attempted to make their way over to Harry, who had been standing precariously on the dais of the archway, the others threw themselves into the chaotic fray, curses already sounding from their lips. The witch could hear someone's voice above the chaos, screaming out with laughter, but she couldn't be sure whose it was.

Amy ducked as a hex came whizzing passed her. She could feel the burning heat through her sweater and she felt her adrenaline pick up rapidly. Turning, the witch brandished her wand at one of the masked foe. He dodged her curse, before straightening up to face her. A breath passed between the two, and then, they were dueling. Bright, burning lights burst from their wands, the spells coming out of the two with a fury.

To her left, Amy could see Tonks in a vicious battle with a crazy-eyed witch. The woman was cackling and Amy swore to herself that she had never heard a more terrifying sound. Amy's attention was drawn away from her friend's battle as the Death Eater she was fighting began to shoot spells at her feet. She jumped backwards as the tiles split beneath her and she felt the ground begin to shake. She feared for a moment that the floor may collapse from under her, but she pushed these thoughts away as her opponent sneered at her.

"Pay attention, princess," he sneered, twitching his wand playfully at the witch. "It won't be as much fun to kill you if you're distracted, now will it?" Amy's breath caught in her throat as she was thrown back into her memories. She knew that voice… that voice… In a flash, she flicked her wand at the wizard and his mask was pulled away from his face. Amy swallowed as the gaunt and sneering face of Avery leered out at her in the shadows of the hall. Another breath and a horrible clench of her heart. The chill of the dreary chamber was too similar to that of December's snowy forest, and her heart leapt about as though she was back in the woods, attempting to elude the Death Eaters once more. She swallowed, forcing herself to focus again on the room she was in. She couldn't allow herself to be pulled into her memories; they would only hold her back.

Furiously, Amy flicked her wand, and flames erupted from the tip. They danced around the wizard who took several hurried steps backward, stumbling over his feet. Avery waved his wand and the flames began to flicker out, dimming until they were gone. His eyes blazing, very similarly to the now vanquished fire, the Dark wizard slashed his wand at the witch, muttering incoherently under his breath. Though Amy dove to the side in an attempt to avoid the spell, the curse knicked her arm and torso, and she gasped as she felt blood spurt from the wounds. Groaning, she pressed a hand against the burning cuts, wincing at the familiar sting. It wasn't often that the witch did get hurt, but when she did, it always felt the same. Painful as hell.

Amy raised her wand, her mouth open as she prepared to cast a spell at the Dark wizard when a crash and cry came up from behind her. The witch spun around to find Harry brandishing his wand, curses falling the the boy's lips, one right after the other. In front of the teen was a tall, blonde haired man whose expression was one of despair and fury. Amy had no time to ponder who the man was because from behin her, Amy heard Avery's voice rasp out, his hiss soft against the chaos of the room. She whipped around, preparing to ward off whatever curse may have been sent at her, but she was too late.

A blast of red light hit Amy in the chest, and the witch was thrown backwards into the concrete wall of the room. Her head snapped back to hit the wall with a hollow thud and spots burst before her eyes. She crumbled to the ground in a cloud of dust and glass. She lay there panting and gasping as pain soared through her. She whimpered at the painful burning sensation, and she wished that she was back in Chicago, wrapped up in Charlie's arms. Anything to soothe the pain. Faintly, as though from three rooms away, Amy could hear Charlie battling fiercely. Her vision was hazy and she could barely make out the flashes of light around her. Through her blurred vision, Amy was able to make out the dark form of someone approaching her.

Avery walked slowly towards her, ignoring everything that was going on behind him. Amy thought she saw a flash of red hair attempt to make its way over to her, but in a moment it was gone. Standing over her, the Dark Wizard twitched his wand his threateningly.

"Well, doesn't this seem familiar?" he sneered at the witch, and through her throbbing headache, she attempted to glare at him. Unfortunately, her head ached too much and could feel a sticky wetness at the nape of her neck, suggesting that she had cut her head. Her glare was much more like a wince, and the wizard cackled at her. "Trying to look brave, love?" He laughed at her, his chuckles intensifying her headache. He paused for a moment, cocking his head like a curious dog. "I wonder what it is that scares you, princess."

He pointed his wand at her, and before she could do anything, the witch could feel Avery invading her mind. Useless to resist, her vision grew white, and she was pulled away from the fight and into her memories.

She was seated by herself on a bench in a park, her face morphed into sadness, and a singled tear slid down her face as she watched the figure of her first boyfriend walk away from here… She was crying under her covers, her face pressed into her pillow as she sobbed uncontrollably… She and Charlie were face to face, snow swirling around them, yelling furiously at each other, red in the face from anger and the cold… Cedric was lying on the ground, Harry sobbing over his lifeless form… Michelle was running towards the street, cars honking. The witch's voice could be heard above the screeching tires as she lunged for the shorter girl. For a moment, she thought she was too late, that she hadn't jumped far enough, that her friend was dead…

Amy gasped as she was pulled back from her mind, spots blooming in her vision. Through her hazy sight, she was still able to see bright lights around her and Avery standing above her, smirking at her forlorn figure.

"Stupid Mudblood," he sneered, shaking his head at her as though she was a child. "Haunted by sadness." He snorted as Amy feebly tried to pull herself out of the debris. Her hands were shaking and she was beginning to feel very woozy. He squared his shoulders, adjusting his grip on his wand as he pointed his wand determinedly at the witch. "I guess I should take care of that for you."

Her pulse slowed and she could hear her heart in her chest, beating slowly as she watched the Dark Wizard's movement. Her breathing caught in her throat, and she realized that if she didn't make it out of there, Charlie would never know exactly how she felt about him. She also realized that he would have to be the one to tell her parents she had died. She didn't exactly think that would be the best thing for anyone. Avery's wand twitched ever so slightly and the witch flinched, shutting her eyes. She couldn't bear to watch the wizard. She wouldn't allow the last thing she saw to be Avery's vindictive sneer and crazy eyes.

Her breathing slowed, and she felt her body relax. This was it, and her being stressed would not change what was about to happen. She swallowed, and from behind her closed eyelids, Amy could still see the flashes of light, Avery's figure illuminated in the spells light. She could hear Avery begin to mutter the curse, and she squeezed her eyes tightly together.

"_Good-bye Charlie. You'll never know how much I love you."_

"DUBBLEDORE!"

Amy's eyes shot open despite her want to keep them closed. The curse died on Avery's lips and together, the two turned towards the excited voice. Neville was drapped over Harry's shoulder, leaning heavily against his classmate, but he was looking up towards the entrance to the chamber. Illuminated in the light of the fading curses was Albus Dumbledore. His face was set stoically, and his normally calm and kind blue eyes were flashing with fury. It seemed as though every Death Eater froze in his presence, and as the wizard ran down the steps, the Dark wizards attempted to escape, only to be pulled back by invisible strings.

Avery growled furiously, whipping around in search of escape. He glared down at Amy who was still half in shock.

"Until we meet again, _witch_," he hissed at her. He spat at the ex-teacher before sprinting off in an attempt to find an exit, leaving her broken form in the corner of the room. She groaned painfully, trying to push herself into a sitting postion, but the ache in her head and the loss of adrenaline was too much for her and she could only fall back against the wall. Carefully, she moved her head from left to right, searching for the other members of the Order. To her despair, she found Tonks through the dusty haze collapsed against the floor. She had numerous cuts on her face which were bleeding heavily and a nasty burn on her arm. It appeared as though several of her fingers were broken, and in her unconscious state, her hair had become a mousy brown. On the other side of the hall, Moody was attempting to pull himself along, huffing and puffing. Amy could see a faint outline of blood from beneath his robes, but the wizard took no notice of this. Instead, he was more focused on trying to move himself out of the line of fire. While everyone else had stopped dueling at the sight of Dumbledore, Sirius was still battling against the manical witch who had been laughing earlier. He seemed to be taunting the witch, pushing her further and further back, a wide, sadistic smile spread across his face.

"Come on, you can do better than that!" he coaxed at the witch, twitching his wand in a teasing manner very similar to the way Avery had taunted her.

A flash of light shone throughout the room, and Amy squinted at the light as the witch's spell hit Sirius in the chest. He froze, his face frozen in his smirk yet at the same time, unbelieving of what had just happened. He stumbled backwards, his arms not flailing about as he began to fall backward. Harry dropped Neville, and the teen ran up that stairs, his hand outstretched towards his godfather.

Closer and closer he got to the wizard, but it was already too late. Sirius fell back through an arch which Amy had not seen at first. It appeared to be empty at first, but as the Black fell through the doorway, she could have sworn she saw the faint flutter of a curtain or a veil, and then… he was gone. The veil ceased its movements, and Harry was left at the base of the doorway.

"SIRIUS! SIRIUS!" The teen's cries were overpowered by the Dark witch's screams of triumph, as Harry made as though he too was going to go through archway. Remus appeared from no where, pulling him back while the boy continued to struggle. Amy couldn't hear them but she knew what Lupin was telling the teen.

Sirius Black was gone.

The next few minutes seemed to pass in a blur, Amy's vision growing hazier and hazier by the second. She saw Kingsley move forward from the shadows to resume the battle against the Dark witch, and she watched helplessly as Remus forced Harry away from the doorway and towards the base of the stairs, where he was soon joined by Neville. Amy squeezed her eyes together while her vision blurred, and when she reopened them, she found Charlie kneeling in front of her. He was covered in grime, and there was a profusely bleeding cut across his forehead. He didn't touch her as his eyes were surveying her form, trying to make out exactly what was wrong with her. His gaze finally made its way to her face and he took in the pool of blood that was seeping out from beneath her hair.

"Amy, you're bleeding," he pronounced, kneeling closer to her in an attempt to examine the back of her head. The witch weakly waved him off, raising her own hand to the back of her head. She could feel the slick blood beneath her fingers and she gently prodded at the gash beneath her hairline. She withdrew her fingers, blinking at the bright red blood on her finger tips.

"It would appear so," she agreed faintly, rubbing the blood between her fingers. She looked away from her blood coated fingers and faced Charlie. Her vision swayed slightly but she was able to keep the redhead in her vision. "There's two of you."

Charlie looked over his shoulder before looking back at the witch, his eyes bright with worry. "Right," he said softly, nodding in false agreement. "We need to get you out of here." Amy blinked at him owlishly. Though they were not too far from the fight, the two were too immersed with each other to notice Harry and the Dark witch slip from the room in a fury or Dumbledore's departure after the two. Kingsley was standing in the middle of the room, his wand trained on the Death Eaters who had been rounded up with a spell, tying them all together. Remus whose face was a mask of grief as he had lost his one last best friend, tried to focus his attention on the Dark wizards as well while at the same time was trying to hold back his tears.

"I don't know, Charlie," Amy murmured, looking wearily up at the wizard. "I think I might want to take a nap."

"I don't think that's a very good idea, Amy," Charlie protested, reaching down to try and pull the witch into a standing postion, but it was already too late. Amy's eyes fluttered shut and she allowed herself to be pulled into unconciousness, collapsing into Charlie's arms with a sigh.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> There you go! I meant to ask this a couple of chapters ago, but never got around to it... anyway, for those of you out there who are from Chicago or have been to Chicago, I'm curious, what was your favorite thing? I personally love the beach, the "L" and (surprisingly) my school. What do you guys love about Chicago? Or if you haven't been to Chicago, what's one thing that you would want to see or do if you were to visit?

Don't forget to review!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	40. Chapter 39

**AN:** Alrighty, here you go! And I know. Trust me, I know. It's been a month, and it really shouldn't have been a month. I mean, I _am _on break after all, BUT I do have a job, so...forgive me? Anyway, it's short and unfortunately not that good, but there's a few things coming up which should be . exciting... so... enjoy?

**Dedication: **Happy Birthday Domo!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing you recognize.

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><p>Through blurred thoughts and an achy head, Amy could hear faint voices and distant shuffling. The witch squeezed her eyes together and attempted to open them, only to shut them when her sight was filled with a blinding bright light. She groaned and shifted on the hard surface she was laying on. Around her, the faint voices went quiet, and Amy suspected they had seen her attempt to wake up. Achingly, the witch opened her eyes again. She squinted as the bright light hit her eyes once more, but she forced them to remain open until she grew used to the bright colors.<p>

The room was a cream color and it was filled with several rows of beds and carts that were piled high with bottles and various potions. It took Amy a moment before she realized that she was in fact laying in a hosptial bed. It took her another moment before she realized that she was also surrounded by a group of people. Molly was seated at the edge of the bed, and she appeared to have been conversing with a middle aged woman seated at the bed next to hers. Amy blinked several times at the two, trying to regain her senses.

"About time you woke up," a teasing voice ventured from the bed to her left. "Who would've thought you were so lazy?" There was a slight smacking noise and a reprehensive "Dora!" and Amy grudgingly turned to look at her neighbor.

Tonks was sitting bright eyed and blue-haired in her hospital bed. Her eyes were flicking between different colors and Amy suspected that it was to make up for the lack of color within the room. She smiled broadly at the sight of her awoken yet weary friend, and Amy gave her a tired smile in return.

"Well, you know me," the witch wheezed, struggling to lift herself up onto her elbows. "Doing as little as I can in as much time as possible." Tonks snorted while the others merely smiled.

"How are you feeling, dearie?" Molly cooed softly, rubbing Amy's leg in a concerned, motherly way. "The others were here earlier, but I told them they should go home. Things have been…" Molly trailed off, looking away from the prone witch.

"I feel like I was thrown into a brick wall before being cursed," Amy admitted carefully. She was hesitant to say so seeing as the last time the two women had talked they had…shouted at each other. Needless to say, the younger witch was surprised that the mother would take up a vigil at her bedside. She precariously glanced around the room, hoping to see her favorite redhead somewhere in the wing, but to her chagrin, he was not there. She held in her sigh of disappointment, and instead, she turned back to Tonks and her own visitor. It was the first time she had _really _looked at the Metamorphagus's parent, and she found it difficult to hold in her gasp of surprised at the sight of her friend's mother. At first glance, Amy had thought that Tonks was the daughter of Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange. It wasn't until the witch looked a bit closer that she saw the woman's face held no look of contempt or insanity as she looked dotingly at her blue-haired daughter. Amy opened her mouth to introduce herself but something dawned on her suddenly, and she did in fact gasp this time.

"What the hell happened at the Ministry?" Amy demanded, looking furiously to a now solemn Molly. "Are the kids all alright? And the other members of the Order? What about Hermione? Did they figure out was was wrong with her? And, what about Ginny and Luna?"

She regretted it the instant the words tumbled from her lips. Tonks looked as though she were about to start crying and her mom looked much the same. Molly looked around the room before back at the witch anxiously awaiting the news on her students.

"The kids are all fine," Molly assured Amy. "Bumps and brusises is all." The witch remembered the last time _she _had used those words in an attempt to soothe someone, and she found that her nerves grew rather than being placated. Molly, obviously noticing the witch's unease, placed a weathered hand on her leg. "They're all back in school and with the exception of Ronald and Hermione, who are going to be in the infirmary a day or two more, they're all doing fine." Molly's words were so sincere and motherly that she almost smiled. Almost being the keyword, because she did in fact know that one person was most definitely _not _okay.

"And," Amy trailed off, swallowing heavily before looking fiercely at Molly. "What happened to Sirius?" The witch remembered seeing him fall through the archway, disappearing with a flutter similar to a curtain in a breeze. She remembered the cackling of the Bellatrix, and Harry's despondent and heart wrenching cries, but that didn't give her anything on where exactly he was now. She hated to think that her fears may be true, but at the same time, she knew that she could not remain ignorant.

Molly's grip on Amy's leg tightened and the mother looked sadly at the younger witch.

"Oh dearie," Molly said softly, delicately so as to not upset the still teary eyed Tonks duo. "Amy, Sirius is dead." The witch took a deep breath, and Amy nodded sharply to show that she understood. She turned to look over at her friend whose hair had taken a turn for the worse and had changed from its perky blue to a deep ebony, one that reminded Amy of the fallen Black.

"I'm sorry, Tonks," Amy told the witch sympathetically, recalling that the two were distantly related. The heart-faced woman smiled softly and made as though to say something when the door to the hospital wing swung open. The four witches paused, turning to face the tired man who had just entered to the room.

"Remus!" Molly proclaimed, jumping up from her seat to embrace the wizard. "It's so good to see you! I've been meaning to come and check on you." The mother hugged the worn man tightly before dragging him closer to the witches. "I'm sure the past few days have been just as hard on you as they have been on us. Even more so, probably." Remus spared the woman a small smile, simply nodding at all of her comments. Amy knew Remus to be a quiet man, a thinker, but there was a blatant air of sadness and weariness about him that Amy was not accoustumed to. It took her a moment to remember that not only had Sirius been his best friend (his last _loyal_ best friend), but she recalled that the full moon was approaching which would have likely played a role in his pale demeanor.

Nevertheless, the weary man smiled at the two women he worked closely with.

"It's been hard on everyone," he agreed. Molly settled back into her seat, gesturing for Remus to sit as well, but the man merely shook his head and waved a hand dismissively. "No, no I really can't stay," he protested, running hand through his graying hair. Even though he was only a little more than ten years older than Amy, Remus' difficult life had forced him to mature much too quickly, and his hair was thick with gray and his face worn and wrinkled in the corners. "I just wanted to stop in to see how you were doing." He looked pointedly at the youngest witches, before looking back at Molly, another smile crossing his face. "Although I can see that you are clearly in the best of hands."

"Oh!" Molly proclaimed, looking at the bed-prone women. "How incredibly sweet of you, Remus!" Amy and Tonks shared a smile between each other as Molly continued to appear semi-flustered at the werewolf's compliment.

Finally, after several minutes of Molly's simpering, Remus now turnd away from the red Molly and looked between the two younger witches. "How are you both feeling?"

There was a pause while the witches waited for the other to say something before Amy finally spoke up.

"It feels as though I was locked in a cupboard with a rogue Bludger," Amy told the man with a smile. "Which I can tell you was most definitely not one of the things on my list to do in life." He laughed softly, politely, before turning to look at Tonks, who was sitting up fully in her bed, twisting her fingers in her hands. He cleared his throat a bit, and Tonks looked up at him briefly before back down at her hands.

"And you, Tonks?" the werewolf asked, his tone, though seemingly light, sounded strained and it caught Amy's attention. The Metamorphagus nodded and shrugged, ignoring her mother's reprehensive look. Tonks tried to look up at Remus again, but the instant she caught his eye her face was down again, although for a moment, Amy could have sworn… well, the ex-teacher's head must have still been reeling from having been thrown into the wall, because she thought she had seen Tonks _blush._ Nodding quickly and looking away, Remus cleared his throat again, and a slightly awkward silence fell over the group, broken only by the sounds of conversation from other patients and their own visitors.

"Yes, well," Remus started, "I just wanted to stop and see how you were doing, so I guess it would be best for me to be heading home now." He waved briefly at Amy, sparing Tonks one more look, before heading towards the door. Silence fell over the witches for a moment before Molly turned to look at Tonks' mother.

"Would you care for some tea, Andromeda?" Molly proposed, looking brightly towards the older woman still at the foot of Tonks' bed. The mother looked at her still dark haired daughter before back at Molly, nodding swiftly. Quickly, the two stood up, and after making sure that Amy and Tonks would be fine on their lonesome, they left the wing, chatting amongst themselves in the way that only mothers could. The two friends sat in silence for a moment before Amy finally turned to look at her friend.

"Tonks," she started slowly, trying to choose her words as carefully as possible. "There's not-there's not anything going on between you and Remus, is there?" The silence and the slow turn of Tonks' black hair to a flushed pink that Amy was met with were her answers, and a look of delight began to spread across Amy's face. "Tonks! Damn, how could I not have noticed this before?"

"Oh shut up, Amy!" Tonks cried, obviously embarrassed. "It's not like, I mean, it's not like he could possibly think to like me back."

"Are you kidding me?" Amy protested, sitting up despite the achy cries of her body and turning to look at her friend. "All that tension back there practically screamed that he loved you! Could you not hear all those hormones?" Amy laughed, dodging a pillow that the Auror had thrown at her. "Hey! Hey! That could be considered assault, you know!" The two witches laughed, ignoring the looks that were being sent at them from the other patients in the room. As their laughter died down though, Tonks' expression began to fade and her hair grew brown at the roots.

"It's just…" the Metamorphagus trailed off, sighing quietly as she fiddled with her fingers. "It's just that _he _thinks that he's too old, that _he's_ not good enough. He's convinced himself that because he's a werewolf that he's not allowed to be happy. He doesn't understand that _my_ happiness is connected to _his _happiness. My love is his love, and his is mine."

Amy looked at her friend sadly. "And have you told him this?" she demanded of the Metamorphagus. Tonks sighed, nodding slowly as she stared down at her fingers, watching as they grew longer and longer before shortening until they were the size of pins. "Oh Tonks," Amy breathed. "I'm sorry." The witch shook her head, rubbing her eyes before turning to look at her friend.

"I'll be okay," she assured her friend. "Eventually, I promise." Again, silence fell over the two for a moment before a sly, mischievious look began to cross over Tonks' face.

"So, uh, while we're on the topic on hormones and love," Tonks began, causing Amy to turn and face her friend sharply. "You and Charlie, huh?" Amy swallowed, her eyes widening.

"Pardon me?" she finally choked out, her eyes practically popping from their sockets. "Charlie and me? What on Earth do you mean?" Tonks raised her eyebrows (one of which was purple while the other one a shocking green) as she looked knowingly at her ex-teacher friend.

"Oh come on," Tonks scoffed. "If whatever this is between Remus and I is so obvious then there must be a flashing, neon sign above your head. I mean the way you look at him!" She paused for a moment, wiggling her eyebrows. "The way he looks at _you._" Amy blushed, looking down so that her hair fell between the two, forming a curtain of messy curls. "Molly's practically already got a spot for you at the dinner table ready, and his story that he just wanted to check up on his fellow Order members wasn't very convincing. Also, he looked rathe-"

"Wait, Charlie was here?" Amy demanded, looking up and brushing the hair out of her face. "When? I mean, why?"

"Maybe you should be telling _me_ that," Tonks replied, looking demandingly at Amy. The witch in question swallowed tightly and opened her mouth to make an excuse when the door to the wing opened again, and Molly and Andromeda reentered the hospital wing. As the mothers made their way towards the two girls, Tonks gave Amy a look which unnerved the teacher greatly. A look which clearly said that this conversation wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

…..

The witch sighed softly. There were still faint beeps in the room, but the lights were much dimmer than when she had awoken earlier. Slowly, she made to roll onto her side but stopped when she felt a hand in hers. Her eyes opened in a flutter, and she looked wearily to her left, a smile beginning to tug at her lips. Her eyes twinkled a bit as she stared at the mop of ginger hair which was resting near her hip, atop their conjoined hands. She yearned for a moment to run her hand through the ginger hair, but stopped remembering that the two were in fact in public. She looked swiftly up towards the neighboring bed only to remember that Tonks had left earlier that day, before she looked back at the wizard who was snoring quietly.

"Charlie," Amy whispered softly. He groaned a bit but did not awaken from his slumber. "Charlie," she repeated a bit more forcefully, tugging on his hand. He sat up with a jerk, his eyes red and bloodshot. He looked around blearily, blinking despite the dim lights which surrounded them, before focusing on the witch at hand. The sleep disappeared from his eyes immediately as he took in Amy's tired appearance and soft smile. "Enjoying your nap?" she asked coyly, as though she were not in fact lying in a hospital bed after having been thrown into a wall and tortured.

"Amy!" Charlie proclaimed, grasping her hand tightly in his. "I've been so-" He broke off as another patient in the wing shushed him from a neighboring bed. He looked haphazardly over his shoulder before turning back to the still smiling witch and continuing in a much softer voice. "-worried about you. The Healers weren't sure when you would wake up, and I couldn't stay here all the time. Mum was already suspicious enough with the little time that I did spend here and-" He broke off as Amy continued to stare at him, her eyes traveling over his face, taking in every freckle and twinkle in his eye for what felt like the thousandth time. "Amy, what is it?" Her eyes met him and her smile seemed to broaden.

"It's just," she paused, biting her lip. It had been only a few days since she had last seen him, and the couple had spent the week before that together so the witch wasn't exactly sure why her emotions were bubbling about her like a potion which had been left over the fire for too long. "I've become entirely too dependent on you as of late, and I think I'm just beginning to realize just," she paused, breathing deeply to gather up what courage she could, "Just how much I love you."

She half expected Charlie to pull away in fright, proclaiming that this was simply moving much too fast for him. She expected him to pull the stereotypical male card and run screaming in the opposite direction at the first sign of commitment, yet he surprised her once more.

"Darling, you certainly have a lot of catching up to do," he murmured, leaning close to the witch. "I've known those exact set of feelings for weeks now." He placed a calloused hand on her cheek before pulling the woman up to meet his lips. The kiss was fierce and their lips moved roughly against each other, yearning for the flesh on flesh contact once again. Amy moaned, although whether it was from the passion of the kiss or because she had strained her side a bit too much, she didn't know. Nevertheless, Charlie pulled away from her, eyeing her ragged form before helping her to lean back into the pillows again. His hand was still wrapped firmly around hers and he squeezed it as she sighed when her back melted into the bed. He could see that her drowsiness was beginning to consume her, and he kissed her on the forehead, brushing her hair away from her face.

"And just so you know," he continued, waiting for Amy to give him a little hum to indicate she was listening, "I love you too." Her eyes flew open for a minute, searching his face to ensure that he was in fact serious and not at all condescending or joking. Yet her doubts were thrown out the window and stomped on by little gnomes the minute she saw the sincerity and adoration in his eyes, and she smiled again, perhaps the brightest smile she had ever smiled in her life. She never thought that her life would be changed by taking that job offer at Hogwarts, or even more so by that damn TriWizard Tournament, and yet, here she was, proclaiming her love to a dragonologist turned animal care desk-job worker. A brave, courageous man, and for the first time in a long, long time, Amy felt like she was finally home. It was these thoughts that wrapped tightly around her, forming a blanket of dreams and hopes that allowed her to begin to drift away.

He waited until she was completely asleep before kissing her on the forehead once more and making his leave. He stopped at the doorway of the hospital wing, smiling at her sleeping form before closing the door behind him.

…..

Amy stood at the end of her bed, a single bag resting on the thin covers as she packed what little belongings she had on her. The shorts and loose tunic top that she had been wearing the night she had entered the Department of Mysteries had been placed in a bag upon her arrival at St. Mungo's, and though they were torn and tattered, the witch happened to be a very sentimental one and thus she refused to throw the clothing out. Along with her clothes, the witch packed up several cards and letters that she had received during her stay at the hospital, one of which had been from Miss Hermione Granger who had wanted to thank the witch for everything she had done (or tried to do) at the Ministry. The teen witch went onto explain just how much everyone at Hogwarts missed their Charms teacher and her quirky ways and how they hoped that she would still be back with the Hogwarts community soon. The girl briefly explained that through a series of peculiar events Umbridge had been sufficiently turned off of her dictatorship (although the witch hadn't exactly gone into detail) and the teacher would likely have her job back in a matter of days. Amy smiled upon reading this, happy to know that she hadn't been forgotten by the many students at Hogwarts.

She sighed, looking at the hosptial bed before her with a disdainful raised eyebrow. She had been held captive in the bed for several days now until finally, after much begging and pleading, the Healers had finally released her, although she suspected it was mainly to shut her up. She didn't look up as the door to the wing opened, something that she had grown used to in the past few days as visitors traipsed in and out, hour by hour. It wasn't until the soft swirl of robes near her bed caught her attention that the witch finally looked up.

"Professor Dumbledore," Amy began, her eyes widening for a moment in shock. "How nice to see you! Although I can honestly say that I didn't expect to see you here." The wizened wizard bowed his head at the witch, a soft smile lingering on his face.

"Did you not expect me to come a visit one of my most popular professors?" Dumbledore questioned, moving to seat himself in a chair near the head of the bed. Amy paused in her movements, her hand buried deep within her bag, turning to look at the man.

"Most popular professors?" Amy asked, her voice laced with curiosity. She laughed lightly, pulling her hand from her bag and making so as to zip it shut. "Perhaps you haven't heard Professor, but I was fired several weeks ago. I apparantly show too much interest in the well-care of my students. Or at least, that's what the _Headmistress_ believes."

Dumbledore chuckled. "And perhaps _you_ haven't heard Professor, but I was reinstated as the Headmaster of Hogwarts just after leaving the Department of Mysteries. Of course, it was by my own insistence, but nonetheless, you will find that Hogwarts in Ministry-free. Or at least, I do hope you will find Hogwarts to be Ministry-free if you agree to return." He looked down his crooked nose at Amy, his eyes twinkling brightly. "I did say that you were one of my most popular teachers and I am not lying. Many students have approached me in the past several days, demanding to know when their Charms teacher would be returned to them. It appears yet again, that Madam Umbridge was unfit to teach that particularly subject." Amy snorted at this but continued in her attempt to close her bag.

"It is rather lucky that you were able to get in as much teaching as you had before you were fired, Miss Wyman," Dumbledore continued, leaning forward from his seat as Amy in turn leaned against the edge of her bed. "It appears that your abilities as a teacher have not failed you, as many, if not most, of your students passed their Charm O.W.L. One can only assume that this accomplishment is due to your diligent and outstanding work, and because of that, I must implore you to return to Hogwarts in the next school year."

Amy laughed slightly, looking the Professor in the eye. "Did you really expect me to say no, Headmaster?" Amy inquired, her eyes twinkling just as brightly as the older wizard's. "I mean, it _is _Hogwarts after all. One can't really say no to that." They laughed, ignoring the looks they were receiving from the others in the hospital wing. As Dumbledore stood from his seat, Amy finally managed to close the zipper to her bag, and she swung it over her shoulder, grabbing her wand and glasses from her nightstand before turning back to the professor.

"No, I do believe _that _is quite impossible."

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Like I said, nothing too amazing. And I apologize right now for any and all typos. Word still hates my guts. Have fun and review? Umm... yes please.

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	41. Chapter 40

**AN: **I regret to inform you that this chapter is crappy as hell. Filler chapters... I hate their guts... To make it even worse... there's no Charlie... DON'T KILL ME. Please... I would like to live awhile longer... _but_ the good news is that because I have (finally) finished Order of the Phoenix for this story, I have a little freedom and can get creative, which means... CHARLIE. CHARLIE. CHARLIE. I love Charlie. Woot. Woot. I've got a few things planned out, and let's just say... things are going to get a tad bit bumpy... if you know what I mean... (woah... sorry about that innuendo... it's late. Forgive me). Also, sorry about typos and whatnot. My computer still hates my guts.

**Dedication: **Happy Birthday Jessica!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing that you recognize.

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><p>It was halfway up one of Hogwarts' large, green hills that Amy came upon Professor McGonagall, who was huffing and puffing as she climbed the hillside. Amy had heard that after she had been fired that the elder witch had been cursed while trying to aid Hagrid in a nighttime raid. She had also heard that she had spent the last several weeks lying unconscious in a bed at St. Mungos, much like Amy had in the past week. She knew that the witch would likely be a tad bit more frail than usual but she had not expected the woman to appear so frustrated and, well, <em>old<em>. McGonagall had a bag in one hand and a walking stick in the other, which she appeared to be leaning on quite heavily.

"Professor!" Amy cried gently so as not to startle the witch too much. McGonagall paused in her steps turning carefully to look at the younger witch. It had been several weeks since the two had seen each other, and yet, all McGonagall did was nod cordially at the woman.

"Amy," she greeted, waiting for Amy to catch up to her before turning back towards the castle. "I hear you were recently in the hospital, although I do hope that I was misinformed." Amy laughed slightly, watching her feet as they continued up the slope.

"Unfortunately not," she answered, tugging her bag further up her shoulder. "It appears that Death Eaters have a certain fixation on wanting to kill me every time they see me." Amy had hoped that this may have brought a smile to the woman's face, but if anything, the wrinkle's on McGonagall's face seemed to grow deeper and more full.

"I believe they have that fixation with anyone who is not part of their cause," McGonagall sniffed slightly, adjusting her traveling cloak. As they drew closer to the school, silence fell over the two witches, broken only by the cheerful voices of students rejoicing in the freedom of the final days of the semester. Teens were scattered across the courtyard and down by the lake, reveling in the warm air and their friends. So, for the most part, the two were able to make their way into the Entrance Hall with little conversation and almost no distractions.

It was the nicest it had been in a while, and Amy was glad that the school year was almost over. It meant that soon enough she too would be able to relax and enjoy the summer sun, away, at least for a bit, from the noise, the glares, the kids. It would be entirely too peacef-

"Potter!"

Amy struggled to withhold her groan as Snape's malicious voice cut through the pacific atmosphere that seemed to have fallen over Hogwarts. Amy and Minerva glanced at each other for just a brief moment before hurrying their steps, listening to the conversation in the hall just ahead.

"What are you doing, Potter?" Snape's voice seemed to ooze chilliness and Amy almost shivered despite the heat of the day. She desperately wanted to know what it was Harry had gotten himself into, merely days after having thrown himself into the line of danger. Did that boy ever learn?

The two witches arrived at the top of the steps just in time to see a black haired, glasses wearing boy glare at the Potions professor. Standing between the two were Draco Malfoy and his two lumps of clones, Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe. The three of them seemed to be incredible thrilled to see Harry under the careful glare of their favorite teacher.

"I'm just trying to decide what curse to use on Malfoy, sir," Harry fumed, not even turning to look at the blonde haired boy. Amy's eyebrows furrowed together as she tried to think of a reason why Harry would be so blunt, but then, remembering everything that had happened to him in the last week, heck the last year, she understood that he didn't really _need _a reason.

"Put that wand away at once," Snape ordered, staring the boy down. "Ten points from Gryff-" He paused, turning to look at the giant hourglasses stationed just next to him, and his sneer widened. Amy and McGonagall too peered at the hourglasses, and to their, anger they found their Houses to be significantly lacking in the jewels which acted as points. In fact…

"I see there are no longer any points left in the Gryffindor hour-glass to take away," Snape scoffed laughingly at Gryffindor. The Slytherins smiled evilly and looked at each other proudly. "In that case, Potter, we will simply have to –"

"Add some more?" The five in the hall turned to look at McGonagall who had taken a further step into the hall. Amy stepped up beside her, cocking her head just slightly as she looked at the boys before her (she refused to call Snape a _man_; if he wanted that privilege than he would need to start acting like one).

"Professor McGonagall!" Snape greeted, hiding whatever surprise or disgruntlement he may have been feeling at her interruption. "Out of St. Mungo's, I see?" He looked over at Amy for a moment. "And you as well, Miss Wyman?"

"It's Professor Wyman," Amy corrected, pleased to see that the wizard's face flashed with surprise for a moment before returning to its callous state. Obviously, no one had informed him that she too had been reinstated to her position along with Dumbledore. "And yes, I have been released."

"And we're quite as good as new," McGonagall continued, shaking her cloak from off her shoulders, before looking demandingly at the boys. "You two – Crabbe – Goyle – " They moved forward at her beckoning, shuffling over their overly large feet. "Here." She forced her bag and cloak into Crabbe's arms before grabbing Amy's bags as well and throwing them into Goyle's arms. "Take these up to our offices for us." The two nodded before heading up the steps, lumping about. Obviously they were used to following orders without question.

Once they had disappeared up the steps with little trouble, McGonagall turned back to the others. "Right then," the witch said, looking at the hourglasses disdainfully. "Well, I think Potter and his friends ought to have fifty points apiece for alerting the world to the return of You-Know-Who! What say you, Professor Snape, Professor Wyman?" Amy nodded enthusiastically, failing to hold back the smile that was tugging at her lips. Snape's reaction didn't help in the slightest.

"What?" he snarled. He exhaled loudly through his hooked nose, before falling under McGonagall's stare. "Oh – well – I suppose…"

"So that's fifty each for Potter, the two Weasleys, Longbottom, and Miss Granger," McGonagall instructed carefully, watching smugly as the rubies fell into the bottom of the hourglass, clinking as they hit the bare bottom.

"Oh, and we can't forget Miss Lovegood," Amy protested, stepping forward with a smile. "That'll be fifty points to her as well." McGonagall nodded in agreement and the two witches watched in satisfaction as sapphires fell into the Ravenclaw hourglass.

"Now," McGonagall continued, "You wanted to take ten from Mr. Potter, I think, Professor Snape – so there we are…" A few rubies shot out of the glass before McGonagall turned to the students still in the hall. "Well, Potter, Malfoy, I think you ought to be outside on a glorious day like this." Amy nodded in agreement, looking almost wistfully outside at the streaming sunlight and lush grass. The words were barely out of McGonagall's mouth when Harry shot outside, a destination set in his mind while Malfoy looked at his professors before slithering as quickly as he could back towards the dungeons, followed closely by Snape.

The two witches remained in their spots until the last swirl of Snape's robes disappeared behind the curtain before they turned to look at each other.

"Well, I must say it is good to be back," Amy joked, and for the first time (perhaps ever), McGonagall smiled.

"It most certainly is."

…..

The students had all seemed overjoyed to find that Amy and McGonagall had returned, and throughout the day, Amy was welcomed back and greeted every time she stepped into a hallway. The most memorable greeting, of course, occurred when one Hermione Granger almost tackled her into the roped off Weasley Swamp. The teacher never really realized that the teen could squeal so loudly.

"Oh, Professor!" Hermione proclaimed, squeezing the not-much-older-than-her woman. "How are you feeling? I know you were there the night of, well, I know you were at the Ministry with us, but I never got to see you, or thank you!" The teen continued to jabber on and on, her arms never loosening from around Amy's neck. Through the curtain of crazed curls, Amy could faintly see Ron and Harry smirking at them, doing nothing to save the witch. Finally, after several more minutes of Hermione's rambling, Ron stepped forward and put a hand on the girl's shoulder, attempting to pull her away.

"Alright Hermione," he urged her, "Let the woman breathe."Amy nodded vigorously from behind the curls, breathing in deeply when the teen finally released her. Hermione stepped back and watched nervously as Amy straightened up before smiling at the teens in front of her.

"I'm fine, Hermione," Amy assured her. "Perfectly fine, but it really shouldn't be you asking me how I am, should it?" She looked at the trio in front of her. "How are you three doing?"

"Well, Ron and I have just gotten out of the infirmary-" Ron held up a rather large bag of sweets, grinning broadly at the professor, "-we've been in there since the night of the, well, Battle, and Harry…" she trailed off, looking over her shoulder at her friend. The boy looked up at the two girls, a faint smile crossing his face.

"I'm doing fine, professor," he assured her, although Amy was sure she saw something behind his eyes. "Just fine." Amy narrowed her eyes slightly, but nodded nonetheless. He had been through a lot, and it wasn't her duty to pressure the boy, so she would leave it where he wanted to leave it.

"Well, that's good to hear, now isn't it?" Amy smiled at the students, before looking over her shoulder at the bright outside. "Now, shouldn't you all be outside? I know when I got out of St. Mungo's I was practically dancing in the streets!" Hermione and Ron laughed while Harry merely smiled. "Go! Have fun!" She gestured for them to head outside, and together, the three left her in the hallway, smiling to herself.

…..

The day before the end-of-term feast, Amy and many, if not most, of the students of Hogwarts (as well as the faculty) took great joy in watching as Umbridge was chased out of Hogwarts by Peeves the Poltergeist with a walking stick and a sock full of chalk. It had happened during dinner. Apparently, the Toad had tried to escape from the school unnoticed but Peeves had decided that the school was entirely too quiet. Instead, he had floated after her, brandishing the cane and chalk weapon, cackling the entire way. The Toad's cries could be heard from inside the Great Hall, and students and teachers alike flooded into the hall to watch their all time least favorite teacher being beaten out of the school. Upon seeing that none of the other Heads of Houses were doing anything to stop their students, Amy settled back into her seat, laughing the entire way.

It was good to be home.

…..

Not much was said at the end-of-term feast. Dumbledore, of course, stood and gave a speech, much to the students' pleasure. Amy didn't think that they could handle another speech filled with "_hem hems." _ Then again, she doubted anyone truly could. Along with Dumbledore's annual speech, the House Cup was also presented, much to Amy's pleasure, to the Ravenclaw house. She didn't think she had ever seen the intelligent, idealistic students so happy. The other houses also seemed pleased, although Amy thought that to be because the Cup had not gone to the Slytherins.

As Dumbledore placed the House Cup before Amy, the witch turned to smile at McGonagall.

"Don't worry," Amy assured the woman. "I'll take good care of it." McGonagall's lips twitched a bit.

"You had better, because I expect it back in my office next year."

…..

For the second time in her life, Amy watched as the many students of Hogwarts exited the school, bags and pets in hand, ready to start whatever adventure the summer would hold for them. And while Amy was excited to find out what this summer with Charlie would hold for her as well, she was also terrified to think of what would happen in the next school year.

If this year was any indication, it was not going to be good at all.

…..

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>It's choppy and horrible, but it had to be done. Anyway, onto my next order of business... if any of my fans out there would care to design an image/cover photo for me, please let me know! You can PM me (or review. I do like reviews), because I honestly _suck _at thinking of covers (that's why the one for Here For Me sucks). Anyway, don't forget to review (because I do like reviews) and tell me what you think!

Thanks lovies!

Signing off,

WiseGirl

P.S. This story hit 150,000+ words with this chapter, sooo... THANK YOU ALL SO FREAKIN' MUCH. Also, we're almost to the one year anniversary of this story, so expect updates.


	42. Chapter 41

**AN**: Yeah! Writing! I never realized how much I missed writing until this week, so here you go! The next chapter! I hope you all enjoy it, and as we get closer to the one year anniversary of Here For You, I'm going to try and continue to update. Anyway, I have work in the morning so I should be heading to bed, but before that, I must tell you all that towards the end of the chapter, it does get a little suggestive. Nothing too horrible or explicit, but fair warning there is a heavy make-out scene after the "..." at the end of the first scene to the end. Just thought you all should know in case one of my readers is uncomfortable. Like I said, it's nothing explicit and it stops before anything goes _too _far, but it is suggestive. Just saying... Enjoy!

**Dedication: **To my _outstanding,_ superb, _supermegafoxyawesomehot_ reviewers and readers! Thank you all so much!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

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><p>Amy had expected at first that the moment she was back in her apartment and her belongings packed away that she would be summoned to Grimmuald Place to discuss exactly what had happened in the Department of Mysteries. It would be the first time since before the school year had started that every single member of the Order would be able to come together… Well… every member except one… Instead though, Amy received a (rather friendly, warm) letter from Molly Weasley who requested the witch's presence at a place called the Burrow that night, and while the name was vaguely familiar to the witch, she assumed that this was to be the new Headquarters for the Order. Thus, Amy thought nothing of the letter. She expected a building similar to Sirius'; tall and elegant yet grisley and depleted. She expected that she was going to spend the entire night listening to someone (Snape) drone on and on about something which would likely hold no importance in the witch's life. She expected a lot, and she had many preconceived notions. Yet, she didn't really have a plan for what would happen if what she expected to happen didn't.<p>

Which, of course, was how she found herself standing in the middle of the country before a towering mismatched house, with chickens and gnomes in the yard. Amy didn't think she had ever seen a house so roughly put together, yet at the same time, she didn't think she had ever seen a home so wonderfully pieced together. Even with the porch was covered in muddy footprints and random shoes lay about. Even with the worn and weathered afghans which had been placed on a rickety rocking chair. Even the chickens weren't so bad, for though they were loud and bothersome as the clucked about, they were plump and featherly and didn't look overly mean. Over the noise of the fowls, Amy could hear laughter and voices from behind the house… no… the well lived-in, well-loved _home. _Curiously and carefully, so as to avoid squashing the berries and fruits merrily growing on the side of the home, Amy made her way around to the back of the house, where, to her amusement, Amy found almost the entire Weasley clan participating in a rather spirited and loud game of Quidditch.

For several minutes, Amy watched as the siblings threw a quaffle between each other, hurling taunts and sarcastic remarks at the other team members. Fred and George, who were used to playing side-by-side as Beaters, had been separated and placed at opposite ends of the make-shift pitch, acting as Keepers as they tried to fight off their siblings who were all playing the Chaser position. Even though the Twins were kept apart by several yards of land and air, they continued to shout things at each other, demanding that they forfeit to the better team (better looking, better grades, simply _better_), and thus the better twin. Apparently they had forgotten that they were in fact identical. There were no Bludgers and not a Snitch in sight.

In an attempt to keep the teams fair, the two eldest Weasley boys had been placed on opposing teams, with Ginny playing with George and Bill, who was lacking in Quidditch skills, against Ron, Fred, and Charlie. Below the shouting redheads, Molly and a brown-haired Tonks were chatting entirely too softly as they set a table in the shade. Amy spared one last glance up at the Quidditch players, admiring Charlie's muscly physique under his shirt, before moving towards the chattering witches in the trees.

As she drew closer, Tonks looked up rathersadly at her although she did manage a faint smile as she approached. She waved at her before muttering a few words to Molly, who immediatey spun around, her face beaming brightly.

"Amy dear!" Molly greeted loudly, wiping her hands on a towel that was folded into the waist band of her skirt. "You got my letter!" The younger witch smiled and made to say something when Molly pulled her into a tight hug, rather reminiscent of the one Hermione had attacked the teacher with. "I wasn't sure if you would come or not or even if the letter would reach you for sure! The kids have gushed about you for the last two years, so I thought a nice, homemade dinner would be a good start to the summer and a well-deserved thanks. I honestly don't think I've even seen the kids so enthused about any of their classes, except maybe when Remus was teaching. Tonks and I were just saying-"

"Wait, I'm sorry," Amy cut in, pulling herself out of the arms of the matronly woman. "Dinner? I thought this was a meeting for the Order." Molly let out a girlish, tinkly laugh.

"Oh no, no!" she protested, her eyes bright with amusement. "Didn't I say in the letter that this was for dinner?" When Amy shook her head, Molly continued on, unfazed. "Oh, well. Sorry about that dearie. I hope it didn't interfere with any plans you may have had, but the kids and I figured that we could all get together and have a nice dinner. I invited Mad-Eye and Remus should be here as well." Amy glanced at her oddly brunette friend, watching as her face dropped a bit as she continued to organize the cutlery before back at the Weasley mother. "And Arthur should be home any minute now, so I should go check on the food. Help Tonks, would you dear?" The mother didn't wait for a response before bustling off towards the house, which Amy was just beginning to realize was the Weasley's.

Sighing and biting her cheek, Amy shut her eyes, not really believing that she had just been tricked by Molly Weasley into coming to dinner with her family. That redheaded witch certainly had the slyness to be a Slytherin. Finally, Amy turned to look at Tonks wh was still diligently placing the knives and forks in their designated spots. Grabbing the napkins at the head of the table, Amy slowly began to rotate around the table, placing a cloth at each place.

"So Tonks," she started softly, delicately brushing a loose thread off one of the napkins. "Remus is going to be here-"

"Shut up Amy," the Auror ordered, glaring at her friend with dark eyes. "Unless you would like to finish out conversation from the hospital? I'm sure Molly would love to take part in _that _discussion." The witch's hair flashed pink for a moment as Amy blushed and restrained herself from looking back towards the still active Weasleys behind her.

"So, how are things at the Ministry?" Amy asked quickly, adjusting one of the chairs as she went passed it. Tonks smirked a bit before sighing.

"Hectic," she admitted. "Every since the Minister announced that Voldemort was back the Auror department has been receiving hundreds of owls everyday with tips and whatever other bull people come up with. So far, there have been sightings of the Blighter four times in Hogsmeade, twenty-eight times in Diagon Alley, and a grand total of fifty-one times in the Ministry itself. Not to mention the occasional note from people who believe that their neighbors are Death Eaters and are harboring Inferi in their basements." Amy laughed a bit at that, shaking her head a bit. Sure, she had known that once the Ministry came to terms with Voldemort's return people would go a little crazy, but she hadn't expected them to be so… stupid? Well, they were all human after all. She supposed that they were allowed to be stupid once in awhile.

"Well, that certainly sounds like a lot of fun," Amy announced, bracing herself against the table as she talked to her friend. "Good luck with all of that." Tonks glared at her, although her eyes were light and amused.

"Oh, Kingsley and I are having _so_ much fun," the Metamorphagus informed the teacher. "Especially when Mad-Eye feels the need to follow up on every single line that is dropped to us, even if the claim is that Voldemort is prancing about Madam Malkins trying on every pink dress robe that he can." Amy threw her head back, laughing loudly as the picture in her head. Tonks looked slightly disgruntled. "Yeah really humorous, except for the fact that Mad-Eye has been breathing down our necks about constant vigilence. I would really love to tell him when he could stick his constant vigilence…" The witch trailed off as Amy continued to laugh, although this time much quieter.

For the next several minutes, the women continued to work in silence, throwing jokes and taunts between each other as they finished setting the table, and Amy quickly forgot that she was still a bit peeved with Molly for tricking her into coming to dinner. Above them, the witches could still hear the Weasley kids shouting between each other and the occasional whoop as one of the teams scored. Through the back door, Amy could see Molly bustling about the kitchen, first at one end of the room before rushing over to the other end. She supposed the evening would be _too_ horrible. It would certainly be better than listening to Snape talk.

Just as Amy and Tonks had almost finished setting up the entire table, a crack resounded across the backyard, signaling that someone had just Apparated onto the property. The two witches turned quickly, their hands drifting towards their wands in case of an intruder. Instead, they found the Weasley Father making his way towards the house, briefcase and hat in hand. He looked up at his children, waving at them before he began to make his way into the shade towards the two women.

"Hello Tonks, Amy," Arthur greeted, smiling brightly at the witches. "I didn't know you would be joining us tonight." The women exchanged looks before looking back at Arthur.

"I didn't know either," Amy smiled, brushing back a curl from her face. "Molly sort of tricked me into coming. I was under the impression that this was supposed to be a meeting for the Order." Arthur laughed, shrugging his shoulders a tad.

"That's Molly for you," he chuckled, adjusting the belongings in his hands. "And you Tonks?"

"Well, I heard there was going to be fudge," the witch told him. "And I can't really resist a homemade Molly Weasley meal." Arthur nodded in understanding.

"Who can?" he joked, wiping at his forehead a bit. "Is she inside?" The witches nodded, and after excusing himself, the redhead made his way to the backdoor of his home. Faintly, they could hear Molly welcome him home, but Amy quickly became distracted as she began to count the settings.

"Tonks," Amy said, laughing a bit to herself. "I think we may have miscounted. There's thirteen settings here, but there's only supposed to be twelve of us." She laughed a bit. "I never was good at math." She reached down to take away one of the settings, but Tonks waved her off.

"No, no," Tonks argued, adjusting the setting that Amy had mussed up. "Our counting is right. There's thirteen of us."

"Tonks," Amy began slowly as though she were speaking to a struggling first year. "There's only twelve. You, me, Molly, Arthur, Bill, Ron, Fred, George, Ginny, Charlie, Remus, and Mad-Eye. So unless twelve and thirteen changed spots on the number line-"

"Someone else is coming as well," Tonks told the witch, rolling her eyes at her friend's foolishness. Amy squinted her eyes at the Metamorphagus, mulling over who else they could have invited.

"Wait, who?" The Auror made to answer her but stopped as Molly's frustrated voice leaked from out of the kitchen.

"You don't have to do anything!" the witch was insisting, and Amy swore she was on the brink of pulling her hair out. "I told you I have everything under control, so really-"

"I know, but eet is no problem at all!" This voice was much calmer and mellifluous. Amy blinked in confusion, staring up at the house. "I want to help you!" A bit more of the argument seemed to pour out of the kitchen, and Amy turned to look at Tonks suddenly.

"Wait a minute, is that-?" She was cut off by the sounds of several people landing firmly on the ground behind her, and she turned to find that the Weasley kids had decided to pause their game of Quidditch for dinner. They were still chattering amongst themselves and had yet to notice Amy or their father who had now made his way out of the house and away from his angered wife.

"You're all cheaters!" One of the Twins was shouting. "It isn't fair!"

"Isn't fair?" Ginny's voice broke in. "We had Bill on our team! That evens everything out!" There was the sound of someone bumping into someone else and Bill's disgruntled voice broke into the fray.

"Hey! I'm not _that _horrible!" the eldest Weasley boy protested. "Just because you were all on the Quidditch team at Hogwarts doesn't mean you are the greatest players ever!"

Someone snorted. "I'm sorry, who was it that was offered a spot on England's Quidditch team?"

"And who was it that turned that position down for dragons?" Ron's voice demanded.

"Hey!" Amy was now able to identify the voice to be Charlie's. "They're seriously misunderstood creatures is all! Really, if you would just-" he broke off as the group of redheads finally reached the table where Amy and Tonks were waiting. He froze for a minute before defrosting in the summer's heat. "Amy!"

Ginny turned brightly to look at the teacher as she pulled her hair out of a pony tail. "Professor! I see you got our letter!" the teen proclaimed excitedly, looking between her two favorite Order members. "Mum wasn't sure if it would get to you or not." She smiled at them before going to place her broom in the shed, closely followed by Ron and the Twins who also stopped to greet the professor.

Bill leaned against a tree, adjusting the strip of leather that was keeping his hair out of his face. He grabbed a glass of water from off the table as Charlie took a few steps towards the witches, although he made sure to keep a very safe distance. "I didn't know Mum had invited you to dinner tonight!" He tried to keep his tone as nonchalant as possible, and he casually ran a hand through his sweaty hair. His siblings and he had played an intense game and he had gotten lost in the feeling of being on a broom again. It had never exactly crossed his mind that his mother would invite Amy to dinner, although he couldn't exactly say he was surprised. Molly Weasley was convinced that the two simply needed to get to know each other and they would fall madly in love. If only his mother knew that she was several months behind the couple, then she may have stopped with all of her hair-brained schemes. Still, he wished he had known Amy was going to be there because if he had, he would've known not to get so sweaty and gross beforehand.

"Yes, well it appears that I was tricked into dinner tonight," Amy told them, looking humorously at the Burrow. "That mother of yours…" she trailed off, shaking her head slightly.

Bill laughed, setting his glass down. "We know exactly what you mean," Bill assured the witch. "She can certainly be very forward at times. Everything has to be done her way and if not-" The cursebreaker cut himself off, looking around very quickly. "Wait, where's…?" He didn't finish his sentence as he saw the look his father gave him, and the eldest Weasley child withheld a groan. "She didn't, did she?" Tonks and Arthur both nodded, gesturing towards the house. "I told her not to do anything!" Bill moaned. "She promised she wouldn't! I swear-"

"Who is that we're talking about exactly?" Amy broke in, her curiosity finally gaining the best of her. "I mean, I heard voices earlier and I could have sworn-"

"Supper everyone!" Molly's announced, her voice irritated. The four still standing adults turned to look at Molly as she made her way from the house, her wand aloft as she guided several plates filled with food towards the table. The witch's face was a bright pink, although it was a more agitated pink than a happy one, and she shot a look at her oldest sons. "You two go clean up," Molly ordered briskly as she organized the food onto the tables. "I expect the others will be arriving soon enough and I won't have you looking like such a mess."

"Mum," Bill started carefully, straightening up from his position against the tree, "where's-?"

"She's inside," Molly answered stiffly, not looking up as she continued to arrange to plants evenly across the table. "Insisted on helping me even though I told her-"

Amy leaned over to Tonks. "Alright, who the hell are we talking about?" she demanded in a hushed whisper. "Because it certainly sounded as though-"

"Bill!" a voice broke in from the back of the house. "Help me, would you please?" Amy turned around to face the voice, her eyes immediately landing on someone who the witch hadn't seen in a year. Yet, despite that year, Fleur Delacour's face was still astonishingly beautiful and youthful, and her blonde hair seemed to swim around her as though she were a mermaid. Amy looked back at Bill to see that he was entirely too enamored with the French witch who he was now hurrying towards so as to assist her with several more plates of food.

"Fleur Delacour?" Amy whispered to Tonks, watching as Bill planted a kiss on the younger witch's cheek as he helped her bring the plates to the table. "Really?" The Auror looked at her from the corner of her eye.

"Oh yeah," Tonks drawled. "They're so in love it's sickening, and Molly can't stand her."

"Really?" Amy repeated. She pressed her lips together, raising her eyebrows at the couple as Fleur delicately tried to wipe away a bit of dirt from Bill's cheek before over at Molly who was trying her best to ignore them. "But I thought Molly was all about marrying her kids off or something like that."

"Well, she is," Tonks agreed, not noticing how Amy looked over her shoulder at Charlie who had entered the house and was washing his face in the kitchen sink. The wizard looked up and caught her eye, winking at her flirtatiously. Amy smiled coyly at him, while attempting to listen to Tonks. "But Molly's all about marrying for love and she just thinks that Fleur-" Amy held in her slight gasp of air as Charlie, in plain sight, pulled off his shirt revealing his lean and muscled torso which had a slick sheen to it. He dug through a pile of laundry in a chair by the door before pulling out a new shirt. "-which I guess makes sense, because Bill's a cursebreaker and Fleur is… well, I don't know what Fleur is, but-" To Amy's disappointment, Charlie pulled the shirt on over his head (much too quickly for her taste), and after adjusting the collar, he made his way back towards the group under the trees just as the rest of his siblings joined him. "-I think Molly just hopes that Bill breaks it off before things go too far, do you know what I mean?" Amy nodded faintly, still distracted by the picture of the shirtless Charlie in her mind.

"Anyway," Tonks sighed as they all began to take their seats around the table, Amy falling into a seat between Tonks and Ginny. "That's all there is to that." Amy nodded as she looked across the table, taking note of the two empty seats.

"Wait, where's-?"

Two sharp cracks filled the air, and those at the table craned their necks to see Remus and Mad-Eye both limping towards them. Remus smiled gently at those at the table whilst the elderly Auror quickly seated himself.

"Well, now that we're all here," Molly began, looking around at everyone at the table. "Dig in!"

It was like setting a pack of hungry wolves on a deer, and for several minutes there was little talking in between the glorious eating. Molly certainly had out done herself with practically every type of dinner side Amy could think of, all of which had an authentic homemade taste to it. It was probably one of the best meals Amy had eaten in a long time. Finally, as the ravenous wolves began to slow down in their eating, conversation began to pick up, starting down with Mad-Eye, Remus, Charlie, and Arthur as they discussed their Ministry woes. Tonks looked extremely pleased to not be seated anywhere near them, and instead she took delight in talking with the Twins, Ginny and Ron about the Weasleys' new joke shop. Amy, having been caught inbetween Tonks and Ginny, threw in her our opinion and also warned the two Weasleys still in Hogwarts that if they dared to use a Skiving Snackbox in her class. They agreed only after Amy swore never to allow her class to get too boring. It wasn't that terrible a deal, and Amy had little trouble agreeing. She supposed that this dinner wasn't _too _terrible, and it was actually rather pleasant to be able to talk to her students as the kids they were rather than as her students. She quickly found that while Ginny was witty and hark, the youngest of her older brothers, Ron, could actually be extremely funny when not complaining about school work every other time he opened his freckled face. At the end of the table, Molly was attempting to talk to her eldest but found that she was unable to do so as Bill and Fleur were deep in conversation. It was amusing to watch the mother try again and again to grasp her son's attention, but to the mother's dismay, she was unable to grab her enamored son's attention.

It wasn't until the sun began to set and the desserts set out on the table, that the Weasley mother eventually gave up and instead turned her attention onto the only other adult witches at the table. Molly glanced quickly between Tonks and Remus before deciding that it may not be the best time to get into that conversation, and so the matronly witch focused onto Amy instead.

"You know, Amy" Molly began, leaning towards the younger witch. "You never did explain what happened that night at Grimmuald Place. When you received that letter." Molly looked pointedly at the teacher, her eyes a fraction wider than usual to show her curiosity. "Do you mind my asking what exactly did happen?"

"Oh!" Amy proclaimed, remembering how she had left Headquarters that night with no explanation. "No, I guess I don't mind. I mean, now that everything is okay." She paused, trying to grasp her story together quickly without telling the entire story to the witch. "The letter was from a good friend of mine. She was writing to tell me that my dad was in a hospital back in America." Molly gasped, her eyes wide, and her hand clasped over her heart.

"Oh my!" She cried, placing a warm hand over Amy's. "Is he alright?" Amy smiled brightly at the mother.

"Oh yeah, he's doing fine now," she assured Molly. "Nothing too serious really. I mean, he spent a few days in the hospital, but he was home soon enough." Molly breathed an almost exaggerated sigh of relief.

"I'm sure that must be a relief for you," Molly continued, and Amy nodded, smiling pleasantly at the woman.

"Yeah, it is," she agreed.

"Wait a moment," Tonks broke in, holding up a hand. Amy froze for a moment, hoping the witch hadn't pieced together Amy and Charlie's abrupt departures. It seemed as though God was in a good mood that day. "Why would your Mom have sent you the letter? Why your friend and not your family?"

Figuring tha honesty was the best policy (especially with everything she had already omitted), Amy plowed on. "My Mom thought it would distress me and thus distract me from work. I didn't exactly have a pleasant time explaning to my family that I had been sacked." Tonks and Molly both laughed a bit. "My brother probably made the biggest deal out of it though. He couldn' understand how someone as intelligent as people think I am could be fired." Molly perked up a bit.

"Brother?" she inquired. "You have a brother? I didn't know that."

"Neither did I," Tonks agreed, peering at Amy curiously The witch shrugged her shoulder nonchalantly.

"_Brothers_," Amy corrected, stressing the plural ending. "And a sister."

"So there's four of you?" Molly asked, delicately pulling a cookie from one of the plates and breaking it apart before plopping a bit into her mouth.

"If you don't count the cat, which I know my mom does, then yes. There's four of us," Amy joked, leaning back into her chair.

"And are your siblings teachers as well?" Amy scoffed a bit, shaking her head.

"God no!" she laughed. "My brothers are horrible with kids of all ages. No, Richard is an engineer and Rose and Eric both work in the hospital. All very exciting careers when compared to my job."

"So, they're all Muggles?" Tonks asked. Amy nodded once.

"They always did call me a witch of a child though," Amy admitted. "I wasn't exactly the quiestest or most obedient child." Tonks and Molly laughed.

"Well, I'm sure you were never as bad as the Twins," Molly assured her comfortingly. Amy laughed.

"No! No where near as bad," she agreed. Fred and George were bad enough as full-grown wizards. She didn't even want to think about what they had been like as equally mischievious kids. The witches grew quiet for several minutes, simply watching the sky continue to darken and the fireflies that were beginning to light the night sky. Those around the table were settled back in their chairs, some absentmindedly rubbing their incredibly full stomachs.

Amy sighed, leaning back in her seat. She closed her eyes for a moment, relishing the soft warmth of the night against her skin. She opened her eyes a smidge to see Charlie also peeking at her, and she smiled softly at him, watching in admiration as he turned his attention onto his little sister who he immediately struck up a conversation with. Amy listened for several moments, enjoying the way that the wizard teased his youngest sibling. She had never really seen Charlie in the role of the older brother, and she could almost imagine him much younger helping his toddler brothers and sister waddle around. She bit her lip to prevent her smile from growing any larger in fear of having the others think that she had finally lost her mind.

"So tell me, Amy," Molly broke in, calling Amy's attention back to the mother. "Is there a wizard in your life at the moment?" Amy's eyes snapped away from Charlie and towards the older witch.

"Pardon?" Amy stammered, her eyes widening dangerously.

"Are you seeing anyone?" Molly repeated.

"Oh well-" Mercifully, Amy was cut off my Alastor who stood up from the table, drawing the attention of everyone still seated. The Auror looked around moodily at everyone, as he usually did, bracing himself against his gnarled walking stick. It was the first time Amy had seen the wizard since the Department of Mysteries, and yet it appeared as though he was unphased by the battle entirely.

"Thank you for dinner, Molly," Moody grunted, nodding at the witch. "But it's getting late, and I'm afraid there is much to do at the Ministry as of late." Arthur raised his glass in agreement, and Tonks groaned from beside Amy, allowing her head to fall onto the table with a clang. Amy laughed, nudging the witch gently while thanking God that she had escaped from Molly's questioning. Mad-Eye glared at his protégé, who continued to moan and mutter grievances to herself. Remus looked over several Weasleys to look at Tonks very quickly before looking away again.

"Oh, it was no problem at all!" Molly insisted, stnding up from her seat. "Would you like to take some home?" She hurried around the table towards the man while Amy managed to pull Tonks back into a sitting position.

As the Weasley mother tried to push several plates of food onto the Auror, Remus also stood up, grabbing the attention of the others. He glanced pointedly at his watch before nodding at the rest of the tables. He stopped at Molly's side, pressing a familial kiss to the woman's cheek before Disapparating as quickly as possible so as to avoid her forcing food onto him. Bill stood up, and with Fleur's help, he began to clear the table while the other's began to stand up, still talking amongst themselves. Amy sighed as well, stretching as she stood up before pulling Tonks up as well.

"You know," Tonks muttered slyly to her. "I wouldn't mind knowing the answer to Molly's question." She smirked a bit, looking across the table at Charlie before back at her friend whose cheeks had turned a faint red.

"No no," Amy responded. "I think that question is probably better left unanswered." Tonks rolled her eyes at her friend. "Anyway, I should probably be going as well." From across the table, Charlie caught the witch's eye, signaling to her that he wanted to speak to her. Amy nodded barely before grabbing her sweater from off the back of her chair and shrugging a bit. "See you soon, kay?" Tonks shrugged again, flashing her a smile, and Amy waved brightly at her before making her way around the table towards Molly who had just seen Mad-Eye off.

"I had better go, Molly," Amy told the witch, smiling brightly. "Thank you so much for dinner, it really was delicious and a great way to start off the my break." Molly beamed at the witch, pulling her into a great embrace.

"But of course, dearie!" Molly exclaimed, squeezing the girl's shoulders. "Feel free to drop in any time, alright?" Amy nodded a bit, waving good-bye to Arthur and the others before making her way to the front of the house where she could Disapparate from. Once she had turned the corner and was at the front of the house, Amy paused waiting to hear if Charlie had followed her. Sure enough, several moments after she had turned the corner, Amy heard footsteps coming towards her and she smiled softly as arms wrapped around her waist and a kiss was pressed to her neck.

"I'm sorry Mum tricked you into coming tonight," Charlie whispered into her hair. "You know how she is." Amy shrugged a bit, gripping the hands tightly at her waist.

"It's fine," she assured him, leaning back into his chest. "It was actually rather lovely." She turned in Charlie's arms so that she was facing him and allowed her hands to wrap around his neck and pull him towards her. The house cast shadows over them hiding them from the sight of the others, though the couple could still quite plainly hear the others in the back yard. Pulling away after a moment, Amy pressed her forehead against Charlie's, closing her eyes. "I've missed you," Amy murmured, "and I know that we have in fact seen quite a bit of each other recently, but I miss just being able to sit around and be with you." Charlie pressed a kiss against Amy's head, humming in agreement.

"I guess it's a good thing that you're home, huh?" The wizard asked and Amy tightened her grip aroun his neck, pecking him on the lips again.

"Home with you," she agreed. They leaned down to kiss again but stopped as a voice called out from near-by.

"Charlie?" Bill called. "Charlie, where are you? Mum wants us to bring the table back inside." Charlie groaned at the interruption but pulled away from the witch nonetheless.

"Wait up for me?" he asked staring down at the witch intensely.

"Your place or mine?" Amy asked coyly, brushing away a stand of hair. Charlie's eyes darkened a bit and he cocked his head to the side.

"Are you suggesting something, Professor?" he inquired, raising his eyebrow in an extremely adorable way. Amy bit her lip and looked down a bit. Though the couple had been dating for more than half a year now, they had not in fact actually gone further than intense snogging sessions. Amy had wanted to build a lasting relationship that was more than just physical and actually had some form of foundation, and she had most definitely found that in Charlie. The couple had talked about it several times, but because Amy was gone for most of the year and the only other time that she had seen him they had been in her childhood home, they hadn't found the right time. Now that she was home and the couple had plenty of time though…

"I just might be," she whispered back. She leaned forward as though she were about to kiss him but just as their lips were a breath away, Amy pushed him back. She winked at him, before turning and Disapparating.

…..

Charlie shut the door behind him with a swift kick, his hands never straying from Amy's hips as he pushed her up against the now closed door. Amy moaned, her own hands gripping his hair tightly, although all Charlie could feel was the power of the kiss rather than the sting in his scalp.

"Charlie," Amy murmured against the kiss, sucking on his bottom lip. "Charlie." His name was all she had said since he had appeared in his apartment, eyes dark with desire and his mouth landing on Amy's almost immediately. He had gripped her hair, pulling away from her mouth to place fluttering kisses on her neck to punish her for teasing him back at the Burrow, but all Amy had done was whimper at the feel of his lips on her flesh. She gripped the hem of his shirt, using it as leverage to pull him closer and Charlie willingly followed, pressing her further into the apartment.

They stayed like that for several minutes before Charlie gripped her legs, pulling them up until they wrapped around his waist and he carefully led her to the bed, pushing her onto it without breaking a kiss. The second Charlie had settled himself onto the bed though, hovering above her with his lips still on hers, Amy used all of her strength to roll them over so that she was now on top of him, her legs straddling his torso. Though surprised, Charlie did nothing in retaliation, loving the feel of her against him and he nipped gently at her lips with his teeth.

Amy moaned a bit, opening her mouth to deepen the kiss and her arms slithered around his shoulders and closer to his neck. Charlie, in turn, kept one hand firmly planted at the base of her neck while his other hand moved to her waist, keeping her firmly settled above him. Their mouths fought for dominance for several moments before Charlie growled a bit, pulling away from her lips and began to trail kisses from her mouth to her jaw and back. Amy wiggled a bit, pressing her cheek into his kisses while her hands began to move up and down his back. Although it was late, and the sun would soon be rising, Amy couldn't help but let her hands move to the hem of Charlie's shirt, pulling it off him quickly so as not to miss too many of his kisses.

Charlie's hand finally moved away from the base of her neck, instead trailing down her back to meet his other hand on her waist. Her dress was beginning to rise up her body, and Charlie groaned as the soft skin of her navel brushed against his toned torso. Pulling himself away from the delicate flesh of her jaw, Charlie pressed his lips against hers again, his tingue sweeping over her lips. Gently, he pulled at her lips with his teeth, knowing that they would be swollen and very red in the morning. Amy whimpered a bit, pressing her hands into his chest.

Desire was building up inside of her, and Amy pulled away a bit, staring down at Charlie lustfully. Yet, Charlie's eyes were dimmed with something other than desire and it made Amy's stomach clench together wonderfully. He was staring at her, dressed in an old summer dress and with atrocious frizzy hair, with the most adoration and love that she had ever seen in her life. And perhaps it was his love for her and her love for him that gave her the courage to pull her dress up and over her head. Charlie stared at her, not really knowing what to do, before she pressed herself against him once more. Charlie groaned again at the feel of her skin on his but he pulled away a bit, attempting to ignore the kisses that Amy was place on his neck just below his ear.

"Amy, Amy," he muttered softly, his fingers still tight on her waist, just barely grazing against the material of her underwear. He pulled away again, catching Amy's eyes in his. "We don't have to-"

"I know, Charlie," Amy interrupted looking down at him seriously. "I know, I don't _have _to, but I want to." She took a deep breath before continuing. "I love you so much, too much to put into words, and you know how much I love words." Charlie nodded in understanding from his position below her.

"I know, I love you too, but that doesn't mean that you should force yourself into this," Charlie protested. "I don't want to force you into anything." He didn't want to hurt her. He didn't want her to regret this. He wanted every moment they ever spent together to make her happy. He wanted her to be happy.

"Charlie," Amy pushed on, a smile tugging at her lips. "You couldn't force me into anything if you wanted to." Charlie made as though to protest again, but Amy pressed a kiss to his lips. "This." Kiss. "Is." Kiss. "All about." Kiss. "You." Kiss. "Me." Kiss. "And our love." Kiss.

Charlie swallowed before looking up at his witch again, admiring her face in the shadows. "I love you," he insisted, his hand reaching up to delicately cup her face in the palm of his hand. Amy smiled softly.

"You already said that," she replied leaning down to kiss him again. "And I love you too." She allowed herself to be pulled into his arms and the sheets, everything but their love forgotten to the world.

…..

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Like I said, nothing terribly explicit. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed, and I'm sorry about the dialogue. I really do suck at making up conversations, but I try my best. For my readers who were uncomfortable reading the last part of the chapter, simply put, Amy and Charlie do have sex for the first time. Alright? Anyway, onto sleep (something which I desperately need!), but before I go... Don't forget to review and tell me what you thought about the chapter and also let me know your feelings on the new cover image for this story! Thank you all and good night (or perhaps, it's good morning?)

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	43. Chapter 42

**AN:** Hello one and all! Glad to see you back in the story! Now, this chapter would've have been up earlier except... my laptop killed itself on Thursday, taking my files and life with it. This also means that the money which was supposed to buy my ticket to LeakyCon is now going towards a new laptop... which also means that I will not be meeting any StarKid this year. I've already cried about that and have re-watch A Very Potter Musical, it's sequel, and Holy Musical B tman in an attempt to comfort myself. Luckily though, I had a sinking suspicion that something may happen to my computer so I had emailed several future chapters to myself and so they were salvaged that way. This chapter, which I've had part of it written for months, had most of the content but it was missing the beginning and the end of the chapter, so those have been re-written. Anyway, after many tears (mostly from myself), here is the next chapter. I hope you enjoy and that it is what some of you've been waiting for.

**Dedication:** To one of my favorite teachers ever! Happy Birthday Mrs. M!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing you recognize.

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><p>"Hey Weasley! Come over here!" Charlie tried his best to hold in his groan as he paused just in front of the exit to the office. He glanced over his shoulder towards a huddle of his co-workers before down at his watch. It was Friday and he was really looking forward to the weekend. He sighed quietly before turning to look at his fellow office-mates.<p>

The voice was one that he unfortunately knew too well, no matter how much he wished he hadn't. Almost in the center of his male co-workers was Adam Moore, a cocky blighter who was gesturing for Charlie to join them. The Weasley had been working with Moore for almost a year now, and his feelings towards the man had not changed in the slightest. The wizard who had requested Charlie's presence was tall and blonde with bright blue eyes, and during his time at Hogwarts, the Ravenclaw had been deemed the "Golden Boy" of his year. Luckily, since the Weasley had been in the year below Moore, Charlie rarely saw the six-foot wizard except during Quidditch matches, but even then, it didn't matter, because Adam really sucked at Quidditch, no matter what he may say otherwise.

Nevertheless, Charlie began to reluctantly make his was towards his co-workers, adjusting the strap of his messenger bag as he did so. He again looked down at his watch, squinting as the office light reflected off of the glass of his watch. '_Amy should be home soon,'_he thought dropping his hand to his side. Since returning from Hogwarts, Amy had recently started working at Flourish and Blotts to help occupy her time during the day. She had spent the first few days of her break in boredom, and due to her boredom, she had cleaned every inch of not only her apartment but Charlie's as well, much to his chagrin. When asked why exactly she had taken on a second job, Amy had explained several times that this day-job allowed her to keep her mind off of all the craziness in the world while at the same time giving her the opportunity to work in a place filled to the brim with books and words. And Charlie knew just how much she loved words. Plus, she had added one night with a pointed look, a teacher's job doesn't pay well, and it was nice to make some extra cash. The wizard said nothing against this, because he did in fact know the feeling of having little to no money. He had grown up that way after all.

"What's up, Adam?" Charlie asked, looking at him with false curiosity. He really could care less what Adam had to say, but Charlie was an overall nice guy and he didn't want to start anything in the office, so he forced himself to be as polite as possible whenever he needed to. He figured he could at least hear the guy out... at least for a few minutes.

Moore looked around at the other wizards in his little huddle before looking back at Charlie, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "The guys and I were just saying," Adam trailed off a bit, snickering with his cohorts, before attempting to sober himself. "Well, we were just saying, that you really need a witch, mate."

Charlie squinted at them, looking around at the other wizards in the group who were also smirking, before he looked back at Moore. "Well thanks for the concern, Adam," the redhead prompted, pressing his lips together to suppress the smile that was beginning to bloom at the thought of his witch. "But, I think I'm good for now." He shrugged a bit and turned to leave again when Moore threw an arm over the dragonologist's shoulders, pulling him away from the other members of the group. Charlie grew rigid under Moore's arm but stopped himself from blasting the man away.

"Now listen, Chuck," Moore began imploringly, "I get that girls can be a bit intimidating, especially for someone, well for someone like you." Adam looked Charlie in the eye before up and down and he grimaced a bit. "But there is a plus side to this, and that is that I happen to be a guy who knows exactly what a witch wants." He paused and looked over his shoulder at his still smirking and snickering co-workers before beckoning Charlie a bit closer. "And I think you can be one of those guys too," he whispered conspiratorially, winking wolfishly.

"Which is why," Moore proclaimed, straightening up to his full height, "we're going to get you a witch today." He turned back to look at his co-workers gesturing for them to follow him out, which they did obediently. Charlie began to protest, but Moore quickly plowed over what he was trying to say. "We gonna go to this really excellent bar with some amazing babes, and I promise you Weasley, you will find a witch. I don't care what you have to say otherwise, you're not leaving tonight unless you have a girl on your arm."

Charlie rubbed his face tiredly before running a hand through his hair. "Listen Moore, I really don't thi-"

"Mr. Weasley!" A feminine voice broke over the enthusiastic Friday chatter, and every member of the Weasley-Moore group turned to seek the voice in the crowd. Charlie's eyes finally landed on the speaker, and the entire group's eyes went wide.

Amy was making her way towards the group, weaving in and out of the different Ministry workers. She was dressed in one of her usual summer dresses and light cardigan, and Charlie was positive that more than one of the wizards' jaws dropped open as she drew closer. Charlie had no idea what the witch was doing there, but more importantly, he didn't like the way that Moore was staring at her. He didn't like it at all.

The professor finally came to a stop in front of Charlie, barely look at the other men in the group, while keeping a friendly and much too platonic smile on her face the entire time.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," Amy informed the wizard, ignoring the looks the wizards around her were giving her. She knew that her American accent was very much unusual in their world and her clothing style even more so. "Professor Dumbledore sent me to find you."

"Professor Dumbledore?" Charlie asked, thanking Merlin that his voice didn't quiver in the slightest. "Whatever for?"

"To be completely honest," Amy smiled (again entirely too politely), "I'm not exactly sure. I believe it has something to do with acquiring certain animals for Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures classes next year, but I'm not positive. I do know though that he wanted you to see him as soon as possible."

"Oh well then," Charlie began, a happy smile breaking across his face, "I guess I better get to-"

"No!" Moore broke in hastily, drawing Amy's attention for the first time. She scrunched her eyebrows together inquisitively as she looked curiously at the interrupting wizard. Adam continued to speak unabashedly, ignorant to his own rudeness. "I mean, Charlie was just telling me that he was so excited for his Friday night plans, and we wouldn't want to take that away from him, now would we love?" Amy's eyebrows shot up, but Moore plowed on. "How about you and I go get some drinks and you can tell me more about exactly what it is Dumbly wants." Adam held out a hand to the witch who eyed it quickly. "Adam Moore. Dragon Researcher and Restrainer, and I think I may be able to help you more than old Charlie here. " He winked although this time it was much too suggestive for Charlie's or Amy's taste. Amy looked between his hand and face again before reluctantly shaking his hand.

"Amy Wyman," she said, careful to hide her tone of disdain. "I'm the Professor of Charms at Hogwarts." Charlie's stomach clenched tightly at the look that crossed Moore's face.

"Well, that certainly makes sense," Adam smirked, "because you've certainly charmed me." Any sense of politeness on Amy's face dropped away, and she pursed her lips together, looking at the man as though he were a troublesome first year.

"The first time you saw me was about three minutes ago," Amy scoffed, "so I really doubt that I've charmed you in that period of time. Perhaps you hit your head recently. It would explain a lot."

Adam brushed her comment off, paying no attention to her words, but instead focusing on the neckline of her dress, which scooped over her chest. "You just have to get to know me, Amy," he assured her, leaning a bit closer to her. "I promise you'll definitely be asking for more." He winked at the double-meaning to that line, and Charlie felt like it was time to cut in, not liking the knowing wizards in the group were sharing and most certainly not liking the way Adam continued to stare at his witch. Even if Adam didn't know Amy and he were dating, he still had no right to look at any witch in _that_ way, that covetous way.

Amy, however, seemed to have everything under control, and she took a step closer to the blunt wizard, much to Adam's pleasure and Charlie's chagrin. She eyed the other men in the group before looking up at Moore who smirked down at her. She surveyed his tall stature before allowing a coy smile of her own to spread across her face, and Charlie's eyes widened as she leaned ever so slightly closer to the wizard. He froze as Adam's eyes also opened at her flirtatious ways, and he was sure his heart almost stopped beating as she... _batted her eyelashes?_

"Well," she breathed, brushing a curl behind her ear. "I guess I wouldn't mind getting to know you _more_," she added in her own wink there, having obviously picked up on his pun. She pulled her hand away from her hair and placed it with a feather-like touch to his chest. "I mean especially for someone who obviously knows so much about witches and what we want." And in that instant, relief washed over Charlie as these words slipped from her mouth. If there were ever a time that the witch had used sarcasm, this was certainly it, and Charlie was sure that even someone as ignorant as Adam would be able to hear the cool inflection in her voice.

"But unfortunately," Amy proclaimed suddenly, stepping far, far, far away from Moore who looked shocked at her retreat, "I have much better things to do, I can assure you." That friendly, platonic look was back on her face as she turned to look at Charlie. "Professor Dumbledore would still like to meet with you." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a slip of paper which she passed to him very quickly, restraining herself from looping her fingers through his. "He said that he would like to see you as soon as possible at this address." She turned back to the other wizards in the group who weren't exactly sure what had just happened to their Golden Boy leader.  
>"I'm sure it would be a pleasure to meet you all," she added, "but I think you're a bit preoccupied at the moment, so good-bye." She made a show of closing her sweater tightly around her chest and turned away, disappearing into the mass of Ministry workers.<p>

Adam huffed a bit and looked back at his obedient followers. "She wants me," he assured them and they all nodded in reluctant agreement. He glowered at them for a moment before turning to look at Charlie who was still holding the folded up note Amy had handed him with a slight smile. "Sorry you won't be able to join us, Chuck," Moore told the redhead, no hint of remorse or disappointment in his tone. "Maybe next time." With a jerk of his head, Adam and his followers were gone as well, and it was then that Charlie opened up the note from Amy. The words were few and simple but he smiled nonetheless.

_Who knew that when delivering books to the Ministry, _I _would have the chance to save you? __You're welcome._

Man, he loved that witch.

...

Amy sighed contently, curled against Charlie's side despite the sticky heat of the night. The couple was covered only in a thin sheet, trying to stay cool, but not desperate enough yet to separate from the other. Charlie stared down at Amy's sleeping face, again memorizing her face, storing it away in his mind. A smile tugged at his lips as he listened to her deep, methodic breathing that filled up the silence of the room. He couldn't believe that this goddess was lying in his bed; it seemed impossible that someone like Amy would ever be attracted to someone like him, but here was proof that the impossible was possible. He smiled even wider as he remembered how she had saved him earlier that day from Adam. It wouldn't have been possible for him to be more grateful of her quick thinking, although he did tell her that he thought she had gone a bit overboard with the flirting. She had laughed at that before assuring him, in her own way, that there was nothing for him to be worried about.

Charlie yawned loudly, rubbing his eyes tiredly, before settling himself against his pillows. As he got comfortable, he looped an arm around Amy, pulling her closer to him. _'Screw the heat,' _he thought, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, before settling his face into her unruly hair. As he breathed in the scent of her perfume and shampoo mixing together, forming the intoxicating aroma that was distinctly Amy, he slowly began to drift into a dreamless sleep.

The darkness was just beginning to settle around him, wrapping him up tightly and he smiled a bit, his mind begin to slip further and further into unconsciousness...A loud crack broke through the silence as someone Apparated into Charlie's bedroom. Charlie sat up, reaching for his wand, as a tall figure stepped into the moonlight that shone through the open window.

"Charlie! She said yes! She actually said yes!" the figure cried enthusiastically. The moonlight lit up the features of one Bill Weasley, whose excited face was slightly terrifying in the darkness of the room (it didn't help that Charlie was still half asleep and in a dreamlike stupor).

"Bill?" Charlie question wearily. "What are you doing here?" Before his older brother could respond, a soft groan filled the room as Amy shifted in the bed, pulling the sheet a little to reveal a long, bare leg. All weariness left Charlie as he realized that his brother, his older brother, was in the room while he had a woman in bed. A woman who his brother worked with. A woman who his brother knew. A woman who his brother didn't know he was dating…

Charlie shot out of bed, grabbing Bill's arm and a shirt on the way out as Bill sputtered unintelligible thoughts. He pulled his brother to the kitchen, shutting his bedroom door behind him before Bill could look back inside.

Bill looked from the closed door to his brother who was hurriedly pulling a shirt on. "Who-What," he stopped, shaking his head in an attempt to remove his stuttering thoughts from his brain. "I'm confused." Bill looked to his brother, who was slowly beginning to turn red.

"Um," Charlie began, desperately searching for something, anything to say. "Fleur said yes? That's great! Bloody brilliant!" He paused for a moment, searching for something else to say to keep his brother from asking any question. Alas, his brain was still sleeping a bit, and Bill cut him off.

"Who is that in there?" Bill demanded, pointing with raised eyebrows at the closed door. Charlie swallowed nervously, his eyes shifting around.

"Can I be best man?" he asked weakly, trying to pull Bill's attention away from the unknown woman in his bed.

"Not if you don't answer my question," Bill responded coolly, staring seriously at Charlie, who demeanor was slowly beginning to crumble. Charlie could either tell Bill that he was in fact in a relationship with Amy, or he could keep their relationship a secret and make up some sort of plausible lie. He of course didn't want their relationship to forever remain a secret, but there was always the chance that everything could fall apart if he revealed their secret. But, if Charlie couldn't trust his own brother, then whom could he trust? And plus, Bill wasn't likely to believe that he would make a big deal out of a one-night stand would he? It didn't help either that Bill knew Charlie wasn't a one-night stand kind of guy either.

He swallowed, looking hesitantly at his brother. "It's-um it's Amy," he admitted, thrilled that his face was covered in the shadows of the kitchen so as to hide the Weasley blush that was spreading up his chest and face. Sure, Bill had known that the two had kissed during the summer, but after he had left to finish things in Romania, Charlie had hoped his brother would simply assume nothing would ever happen between the two. Bill had been the one Charlie had gone to after the kiss, telling him that instead of facing the rejection like a man he was going to hide away somewhere, yet another flaw of his. While he had accused Amy of running from her fears, Charlie was just as much at fault as she was. He hoped he would never have to admit that to her, because he feared that if she knew just how much of a coward he was (screw his Gryffindor title) she may realize she deserved someone better.

Charlie was brought back into reality by Bill who had begun to chuckle, softly at first, barely a laugh at all, before he grew increasingly louder and louder until he was bent over, clutching his sides in mirth. Charlie looked nervously from side to side, hoping that his brother's laughter wouldn't awaken the girl in the bedroom as well as hoping that Bill hadn't officially lost his mind. He looked down at his usually taller brother but know doubled-over brother with worried concern brimming in his eyes as Bill braced himself against the table.

"About time!" Bill finally guffawed at his brother. He laughed again, slapping his leg in the hilarity of the situation. Charlie blinked rapidly as he attempted to wrap his mind around what his brother was saying.

"What do you mean, about time?" he demanded, looking between his still laughing brother and the bedroom door.

"Oh come on!" Bill wheezed. "Anyone could see that you both fancied each other! Mum's been trying to get the two of you together for months now! I mean, it's been, what, a year since you kissed her? It certainly took you long enough!" Charlie rubbed the back of his head bashfully. Sure, he had caught on to his mother's ploys time after time, but he hadn't thought anyone else had. Or at least, he had _hoped _no one had.

"You can't tell anyone," Charlie insisted suddenly, trying to break through his brother's laughter. He was just beginning to realize what an amused Bill could do in the wrong situation. "We've kept it a secret for a reason, and we do have actual reasons, so you can't saying anything to anyone. Especially Mum." Bill paused mid-laugh, straightening up to look at the oldest of his younger siblings.

"Wait a minute," he began, his forehead beginning to scrunch together as he looked curiously at the wizard. "Exactly how long has this been going on?" Charlie froze and looked down at his feet, shuffling a bit. Red was starting to creep back up his neck and face, and he did his best to avoid making eye contact with his only older sibling.

"Um, since the night Dad was attacked," He answered, closing his eyes as he waited for his brother's reaction.

"Seven months?" Bill practically shouted after doing a quick calculation of months and numbers in his head. "You've kept this a secret for seven months?"

"Can you really blame us?" Charlie demanded back, now looking up despite the red in his face. "Look at how you're reacting, and you're my brother! Imagine how others would respond to this! Amy could get in a lot of trouble, I mean, she's Ron's and Ginny's teacher. She could be fired for potential favoritism." He looked imploringly at his brother, needing for him to understand just how much he and his witch had gone over this again and again. "We didn't really want to keep it a secret, but we both agreed that it was for the best. To protect Ron and Ginny and to protect Amy's career."

Bill nodded slowly, the ends of his pony tail falling over his shoulder. "I get that, I guess," Bill admitted, shrugging slightly. He looked up and caught Charlie's blue eyes in his own. "But you know you can't keep it a secret forever. I mean, look at how I found out." Charlie really hated to admit it, but he knew his brother was right.

"I know," Charlie finally sighed, running a hand through his hair frustratedly, "but-" The wizard was cut off as the door to his bedroom opened, and a sleepy, bedraggled Amy emerged from the shadowy depths. Her eyes were barely opened and yet she still flinched at the dim lighting of the kitchen.

"Charlie?" she asked tiredly. "What are you doing up? It's like three in the morning." Her hair was matted slightly and stuck to her neck and shoulders. She was dressed in one of Charlie's old Quidditch shirts and she fell against the wall of the kitchen in exhaustion, not even noticing the other red head in the room.

Her Weasley looked at his brother before back at Amy. "Well, we sort of have a visitor," Charlie said slowly, knowing that the witch wouldn't be able to think clearly this late (or was it early?).

She yawned again, and as she ran a hand through her hair, the hem of her nightshirt rode up a bit, exposing the soft flesh of her legs. Bill looked away quickly, turning the famous Weasley red at the sight of the witch's skin, and he hurriedly placed a hand in front of his face to block his sight of the witch. Charlie also looked abashed at the fact that his girlfriend was so bare in the presence of his brother.

"That's really nice, Charlie," Amy said as though she were talking to a little child. She rubbed her eyes. "But maybe they can come back when-" She froze, her eyes shooting open as her tired mind finally realized what Charlie had said. She leaned forward from off her spot on the wall as her eyes darted around the kitchen before eventually landing on the other Weasley in the room.

"Oh, Bill!" She gasped, blinking quickly. "Um, I-uh..." she trailed off desperately, not knowing what should be said in their situation. She looked down suddenly, realizing that she was in fact wearing Charlie's shirt and she also turned red. She stuttered a bit and Charlie took this opportunity to try and do what he could.

"Bill came to tell me that he asked Fleur to marry him," Charlie prompted, looking between his witch and his brother who had finally removed his hand from the front of his eyes. Amy widened her eyes a bit and looked at Bill, a bashful smile on her face.

"Oh, congratulations," Amy exclaimed, pulling nervously at her hair. "Um, I'm really happy for you two!" She looked over her shoulder at the door, and she took a few shuffled steps towards the bedroom door. "You know, I should get back to, um, I'll see you soon." She turned quickly, practically running towards the door. The two wizards watched as she bumped into the door frame before shutting the bedroom door behind her rapidly.

There was a brief moment of silence before Bill began laughing uproariously once more. Charlie took a deep breath before looking at his brother. "Well, she certainly seemed a tad flustered, didn't she?" the Curse-breaker asked, chuckling the entire time. "And was that a Gryffindor shirt I saw her wearing? Finally turned her off of those smarty-pants Ravenclaws, huh Chuckie?" Over Bill's laughs, Charlie could plainly hear the sounds of something banging on wood, and he knew that Amy had likely tried to bash her head into the door until she passed out.

Realizing that he needed to gain his brother's attention, Charlie crossed the kitchen quickly until he was standing before Bill. "Bill, listen to me. You can't say anything, alright? Promise me," Charlie ordered looking his brother in the eye. Bill, however continued to laugh, and Charlie could feel desperation begin to rise up in him. "Bill, swear to me that you won't say anything. You have to let Amy and I tell people about us, okay? Swear to me right now." His brother paused mid-laugh before he looked (really, truly _looked_) at the dragonologist. He surveyed his brother's serious expression, and he cocked his head a bit, trying to figure out what exactly was going on in Charlie's mind. He blinked suddenly and took a step back.

"You love her, don't you?" Bill inquired, realizing that the emotions he saw in his brother's eyes were identical to those in his own when he looked at Fleur. Charlie looked down before back at his older brother, and he nodded.

"Like you wouldn't believe," he admitted softly. He inhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair tiredly.

"I promise then," Bill agreed, looking his exhausted, enamored brother up and down. "But you know you're going to have to tell people eventually, right?" Charlie nodded in understanding, and silence fell over the two Weasley brothers. Charlie fell back against his kitchen table, bracing his arms on the wood while Bill continued to look between his brother and the bedroom door behind him. He looked down at his watch quickly before looking at his younger brother.

"I should probably head back," he announced, adjusting the collar of his shirt. "I told Fleur I wouldn't be long." Charlie nodded once, running a calloused hand over his face.

"Yeah, alright," Charlie agreed, tapping his fingers on the edge of the table. Bill stepped forward and made as though he were about to Disapparate when Charlie stopped him. "Oh and Bill," Charlie cut in, stopping his brother from turning. "Congratulations, I'm really happy for you." Bill smiled gently.

"Thanks Charlie," Bill laughed slightly, holding out a hand for his brother to shake. "And I did tell you that you and Amy would make a bloody brilliant couple, didn't I?"

Charlie laughed a bit. "Yeah, we just had to get passed all of that awkwardness." The brothers laughed and Bill stepped back from his brother. He looked over his shoulder at Charlie's apartment before back at his brother.

"You know," Bill began knowingly, "your apartment is a bit too clean. Mum would know in an instant that someone else had cleaned it. You may want to fix that." Charlie peered over his brother's shoulder at the organized den and the lack of strewn about papers, and he nodded.

"Yeah it is, isn't it?"

Bill smiled and winked teasingly at his brother, before turning on his heel and Disapparating with a snap. Charlie released a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping over in exhaustion, and he groaned under his breath. He looked back at his overly clean apartment before shuffling towards his bedroom door. He flicked his wand behind his back, dimming the lights to the kitchen as he opened the door to the bedroom. He shut the door behind him with a snap and fell against the door, letting his head fall back against the wood. He grumbled quietly to himself before he shook his frustrated feelings off and opened his eyes.

Amy was sitting on the edge of the bed, her elbows resting on her knees and her head in her hands. She was muttering to herself under her breath, her fingernails gripping at her hair desperately.

"Oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin," the witch was whispering under her breath, rocking back and forth a bit. "This is horrible. Oh Merlin." Charlie sighed and crossed the room quickly, ignoring the cold wood against his feet. He knelt in front of Amy, grasping her hands in his own and tugging them away from her face.

"Hey," he said softly, squeezing her fingers tightly. "Everything's going to be alright. Bill swore that he wasn't going to say anything, we're okay." Amy looked up at him exasperatedly, huffing under her breath.

"Charlie," Amy began, instinctively reverting to her I'm-A-Teacher voice. "You know no one can keep a secret from your Mother. It's a miracle that we've been able to keep this a secret for as long as we have." She sighed under her breath. "Everything's going to just fall to pieces now and I'm going to get fired, _again_, for favoritism towards students." She fell back onto the bed, her hand flopping dramatically over her face and she groaned to herself.

"Amy," Charlie murmured, moving to sit in the middle of the bed next to her. He leaned down and braced himself on his elbow. "Everything's going to be okay. We knew we would have to do this eventually, after all." Amy sighed nodding a bit under her arm. Smiling a bit, Charlie gently pried Amy's arms away from her face. "Okay? And as for the whole favoritism thing, just treat Ron and Ginny the way you do now, like students." He paused for a moment. "And don't be afraid to give them detention either since they probably deserve it, okay?"

Amy nodded reluctantly. "I guess you're right," she admitted softly, looking over at him.

Charlie laughed quietly. "Of course I'm right!" he proclaimed brightly. "I'm a teac-" He broke off as he remembered just how Amy's little motto went, and he bit his lip irritatedly. Amy laughed.

"Yeah, it may be three in the morning," Amy giggled, moving so that she was sitting in Charlie's lap. "But I'm pretty sure that you're not a teacher. At all." Charlie shrugged nonchalantly, his hands moving onto Amy's waist, and she smiled down at him. Her hands wound up his chest and wrapped around his neck.

Suddenly, Charlie flipped them over so that he was now hovering over the witch. He leaned a bit closer to her and when he was just a breath away he began to whisper to her. "Do you know what I am then?"

Amy pursed her lips together, scrunching her eyebrows together adorably as she pretended to think hard on her answer. "A sexy dragonlogist?" She asked with a quirked eyebrow.

Charlie leaned even closer to her, until his lips were almost on hers, and his eyes twinkled beneath the ends of the red hair that fell into his eyes.

"Yours," he corrected, before pressing his lips to hers.

...

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> So... what did you think? Was good? Okay? Horrible? Let me know! I wasn't sure where exactly I was going with the whole Adam Moore thing, but I felt the need to add something to the story, and I'm sure Adam will appear again... (for those of you who didn't catch on, that's foreshadowing (and for those of you who don't know what foreshadowing is... "Foreshadowing is a dramatic device in which an important plot point is mentioned earlier in the story to return later in a significant way." Thank you Hermione Granger and your excessive know-it-all-ness. Hope you all enjoyed, and don't forget to review and tell me what you think so far!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	44. Chapter 43

**AN: **You all have no idea how incredibly proud I am to be posting this chapter. It has been one year since the day that I posted the first chapter of Here For You. Amy and Charlie have certainly come a long, long way, and I can honestly say, I'm a bit surprised by the enthusiasm of my readers, reviewers, and alerters. So, to all of you out there, thank you so incredibly much, I couldn't have done it without you, and nor could Amy and Charlie.

**Dedication:**To my reviewers: Earthlover8815, , Brb babe, Ryle Culler, Torchich23, Sarcasmwasmile, ILuvKellanForever, Johnnie W., Amyb11, Sci-fi-rocks, DemontaDark, AddictedtoHPForever, Addy, Spirited Mare, XxBookXxWormXx, 3 fries short of a happy meal, Ashleybett, NerdyPassionLoves, Makemeagryffindor, I Just Need You, Weasleytwins12, BookyGurl, Sarah-Leigh-Black, Azuresilver, Sarah0406, Virginia, LittleCatZ, Blue is the Sea, De1eted Acc0unt, PurpleWildcat, ForeverxAlways10, The Thunder Alchemist, Passthefirewhiskey, AmericanUnicorn, Mekon-Chan, miaandB, ForeverTeamEdward13, 112233, LookIntoHerEyes, Illean, ThePhantomismyLove, NoThErEaNyMoRe11111, xXMiss Alec VolturiXx, OmgitsBlondie, Orderofphoenix, Juliedoo, Arsenic Katy, Ergelina, SARAHBABE215, RileyRavenBlack, BellaMasen01, Hoggyhogwarts, Vue Lorner, Beaufale, SlytherinKendall, Chuu112, XoXMaximumculleNXoX, Bellatrix and the Dark Lord, AgentBlindSide, Random Girl, SamLorne, Aine Hathaway, and NotSoAngelAnymore. Thank you all so much! Every single review is honestly like a little smile and they certainly make me smile (dear Rowling, that was cheesy).

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing you recognize.

* * *

><p>A letter dropped onto the middle of Charlie's desk, nearly knocking over a well of ink and displacing several forms. The wizard looked up from his paperwork and found Amy standing in front of him, looking down at the redhead with a nervous look as she gnawed on her bottom lip. "Hello," she greeted him. "I got another letter from your Mom."<p>

Charlie grimaced, looking at the letter very quickly, before up at Amy, who had her hands crossed over her chest and was tapping her foot anxiously. "And this time she wants…?" He trailed over questioningly, setting his quill down next to a form as he picked up the letter.

"What do you think she wants?"

Charlie sighed, setting the letter down without opening it. "For you to join us for dinner, I'm assuming." Amy pressed her lips together angrily and he suspected that she may explode for a moment, but instead she simply fell into the chair across from Charlie, her head propped up in her hand.

"This is the sixth letter she's sent, Charlie," Amy reminded him snappily. "The _sixth_. Before long she's going to start coming by the shop and dragging me to the Burrow."

"What do you want me to do, Amy?" Charlie asked her, standing up to move around to the front of his desk. He stopped just in front of her. "Restrain her? She's my Mum, there's not much I can do unless you want me to start bringing a fake date with me to dinner so as to throw her off the invites."

Amy looked up at him, her eyebrows raised and she cocked her head a bit as though she were thinking of his proposition.

"I was kidding!" Charlie cried, throwing his hands into the air. "It probably wouldn't stop Mum anyway, and who could I possibly ask to do that?"

Amy threw her own hands up in surrender. "Well, sorry," she drawled, ruffling her hair in irritation. "But you've got to admit, it's not a bad idea."

"Um, yes it is a bad idea," Charlie argued, looking down at her as though she had lost her mind. "Because I would have then unleash Mum's wrath onto some innocent witch, and then, I would eventually have to tell her that it was all a lie and I was in a relationship with you the entire time. You would probably have to dig me up from the backyard, she would be so furious."

"Alright, alright, alright," Amy agreed, looking at him apologetically. "I'm just." She sighed softly, brushing her bangs away from her face. "I guess I'm just scared is all." Charlie's forehead crinkled as he watched Amy play with her fingertips.

"Scared?" he repeated, blinking a bit. "What you could possibly be scared of? I mean, yeah Mum may seem a tad overzealous and at times frightening, but she wouldn't hurt a fly. And she'll be so glad that we're together that she won't even be able to find the time to be upset with either-"

"It's not your Mom I'm scared of," Amy broke in, looking up at him worriedly. Charlie looked at her, trying to read the expressions on her face. "I'm scared that everything is going to change once everyone knows. I'm scared that-that _we're_ going to change. That what we have may change as well." She sighed quietly, twisting a lock of hair around her finger, tighter and tighter and tighter, before releasing it and starting the process all over again.

Charlie sighed as well, looking thoughtfully at the witch. It was a rare thing for her to ever admit she was scared. She preferred to keep her thoughts and emotions bottled up within her, and she had every right to do so. Her family was an intellectual one that thought rather than acted on instinct and didn't exactly appreciate their witch's ability to talk nonstop, thus leading to her keeping most of her thoughts and opinions locked away. Or at least, that's what Charlie had picked up on during his time with the Wymans. So to see her so…vulnerable, over something as simple as telling his parents they were in a relationship…well it was a side that Charlie didn't see often.

"Amy." Charlie placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face so that her eyes met his. He stared at her determinedly, surveying her face. Her geeky reading glasses, her heat induced curled hair, and the way she was still biting her lip. Her face had become the one thing he could count on. _She_ was the one thing he could count on, so he figured he should give her something to count on as well. "I promise, and I mean I _really_ promise, that nothing is going to change between us. Honestly, if the last thing I do is tell my Mum that I'm dating you, then I'll be okay with that, because it'll mean everyone will know that you really, truly are mine."

"Merlin," Amy whispered, shaking her head with a very small smile on her face. "I love you." She sounded so astounded by her declaration of love that Charlie laughed aloud.

"I love you too, you witch." Charlie didn't even flinch when she punched him in the arm, and he laughed at the pout on her face.

"And, I'm sorry about snapping at you," Amy apologized during a moment of silence. "I guess I was just freaking out a bit."

"You think?" Charlie asked, moving quickly around his desk to avoid getting hit by Amy's fist again. He settled quickly into his seat but leaned away from the witch who glowered at him.

"Oh shut up, Charlie," Amy huffed, pushing herself out of the chair and brushing her hair over her shoulder. She rolled her eyes and moved towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

"You're snapping again," Charlie called from his desk as he picked up his quill to begin his work again. He waited until Amy had disappeared into the kitchen before he really began to look over his papers again, efficiently ignoring the letter from his Mum.

"Just for that," Amy cried back, "you get to be the one to tell your Mom about us." The witch could hear him groan from the other room and she smiled brightly at the sound of his head hitting the desk.

…..

"Alright, so you know the plan, right?" Amy called through the door, nervously trying to straighten her frizzy hair in the summer heat.

"We've been over this at least twenty times," Charlie called back impatiently, leaning against the wall just outside the door to Amy's bedroom. He looked down at his watch before turning his head to call back to her. "And if we go over it again, we're going to be even later than we already are."

Amy sighed, her cheeks puffing out absurdly, and she shrugged, turning away from the mirror to grab her wand, which she stuffed neatly into the waist of her shorts.

"Alright, alright," Amy complied, opening the door to her room and stepping out to look pointedly at the wizard. "No need to get your panties in a wad."

"Even though I don't know what that means," Charlie informed the witch, "I don't think you should be the one telling me that. You're freaking out over nothing, I mean it's just dinner with my parents-"

"Dinner with your parents and siblings where we tell everyone that we're dating," Amy interrupted, pointing at him. "Don't forget that."

"How could I?" Charlie grumbled, before stepping closer to the witch and wrapping an arm around her waist. "Now, before we're even later than we already are?"

Amy sighed. She swallowed her pride and gathered whatever restraint she had not to run back into her room and lock herself away. She doubted that even doing that would stop Charlie from telling his family. Reluctantly and not knowing exactly what would happen that night, Amy wrapped her arms around Charlie, tucking her head into the crook of his neck.

"And we're not telling everyone," Charlie whispered into her ear, his warm breath washing over her. "Bill already knows."

Amy groaned at his terrible attempt to reassure and comfort her, but she smiled nonetheless and pressed a small kiss onto his cheek. "Come on," she huffed. "Let's get this over with." Charlie shut his eyes and tightened his grip on the witch before turning slightly on his heel, and the couple Apparated away from Amy's apartment.

They landed with a crack just outside the Burrow, and even from the front yard, the two could hear voices from within the houses. More voices than usual, signaling to the couple that Molly had obviously invited more than just Amy to the dinner that night. Amy slipped her arms away from Charlie and stared at the front door, gulping loudly as she realized what it was that she had just roped herself into, and she knew right then and there that she would not have been a Gryffindor if she had attended Hogwarts.

"We can still leave," Amy blurted out, turning to look at Charlie with wide eyes. "W-We could come up with something, something, um, work related! Yeah or we could say that we're sick. Oh, oh! I can tell her my cat died! I mean, I've used that one before, but I think she believes me! Or we could-"

"It's too late to turn back now," Charlie broke in, looking at the witch knowingly. His hand fell from her waist and to her hand, grasping it in his own. "Besides, we're in this together, aren't we?" Amy nodded grudgingly, allowing Charlie to lead her up the stairs of the porch and towards the front door. "And it probably won't even be as terrible as we think."

"Right," Amy agreed. "Right, yeah, right, yeah, and I mean-" She was cut off as the door to the home opened unexpectedly, and Charlie's hand flew from her own. Amy looked at him quickly before back at the Weasley Mother in the doorway.

"I thought I heard voices out here!" Molly cried brightly. "We've been waiting for you two for awhile now. Well, I'm sure you just got caught up in something." She paused and looked between them, not fully taking in Amy's surprised expression and Charlie's look of having had his hand caught in the cookie jar. "What were you two doing out here?" Amy and Charlie looked between each other for a moment, before looking back at the witch. Now seemed as good a time as any.

"Well, actually Mum," Charlie started, swallowing as he gathered his words together. "We have something to tell you. Amy and I-"

"Mum!" a cry from inside interrupted them. "We're hungry! Can we eat yet?" Several voices chimed in agreement, and Molly rolled her eyes.

"Sorry about that Charlie," Molly apologized, "you know how your brothers can be." She reached out and grabbed Amy's arm, pulling her inside, followed closely by an irritated Charlie. "Perhaps you can tell me over dinner. I'm afraid one of the Twins may have eaten Ronald by now."

Molly led Amy through the messy confines of her home, chattering away about Merlin knows what while Charlie followed grudgingly behind them, obviously disgruntled about having been interrupted just as he was about to tell his Mum that he was dating Amy. He had hoped to tell his parents away from his horde of siblings, thinking that it would be easier for all of them that way. He also thought that is would be best to prepare Amy for the mickey the Twins were inevitably going to take out of them.

As Molly dragged Amy into the room next to the kitchen, the witch realized that her assumption of the house having more than just Weasleys in it was true. Seated around a table, this time located within the house itself rather than on its property, was the entire redheaded family (except Percy of course) as well as Hermione, Harry, Fleur, and Mad-Eye. The only people who Amy could think of to be missing were Tonks and Lupin, but the witch wasn't given much time to ponder this before Molly shoved her down into a seat and Charlie into the seat next to her. As the others at the table greeted the latecomers, Molly disappeared into the kitchen, returning quickly with plate after plate of food. Ron and the Twins roared in delight at the sight of the food, their hands wrapped tightly around their forks and knives. Amy was surprised that they didn't start pounding their utensils on the table in hungry anticipation.

"Alright," Molly proclaimed brightly, wiping her hands on her extraordinarily clean apron, which was patched together with bright colors. "Now that almost everyone's here-" the Twins glared pointedly yet playfully at Amy and Charlie, "-we best all dig in!"

Amy would have laughed at the sight of the younger Weasley boys almost literally digging into their foot, but the tight bundle of nerves that had settled in her stomach stopped her from doing so. Telling Molly and Arthur had seemed bad enough, but actually having to tell the entire Weasley family, as well as people the witch worked with? That was enough to frighten her back to America. It seemed as though the couple's plan had fallen through. They had of course planned on telling Charlie's siblings eventually, just not the same night they told his parents. They had hoped that Molly and Arthur would respect that, even if it were for a little while.

Under the table, Amy felt Charlie nudge her leg gently. She turned to look at him carefully, and he shrugged a bit, as if asking if he should continue where he had left off or not. Amy shrugged in response, a bleak yet terrified look in her eyes, before turning back to what little food was on her plate, and she began to pick at it, listening intently as Charlie turned to look at his mother who was seated next to him. Hoping that his siblings chatter, accompanied by Moody's booming voice, and Harry and Hermione's laughter, along with the clanging of forks and plates would overshadow his words, Charlie began to speak.

"Mum," Charlie started slowly, picking at a stray thread in his napkin as he looked carefully at the redheaded witch. "Remember how I was trying to tell you something earlier?"

"Oh, of course, dear," Molly cooed, focusing on her second eldest. "What is it? Is everything okay at the office?"

"Yeah, Mum," Charlie answered in his dutiful-son tone. "Everything's fine at work, but that's not it." Amy's stomach clenched even tighter as she realized that he was really going to tell her, right here and now in front of everyone. It didn't matter that they weren't all listening. What mattered was that their secret was coming undone right before her very eyes.

"Then, what is it, Charlie?" Molly asked, taking a sip from her glass Charlie sighed, looking down at his lap and then to Amy who nodded a bit to encourage him on, before up at his mother, gathering up his Gryffindor courage.

"Now try not to freak out, Mum," Charlie told her very quickly, wanting to make that very clear to the witch before he went any further. Molly raised an eyebrow at him as though to ask 'Who? Me?' and Charlie plowed on. "Amy and I are-"

"So sorry I'm late," a voice broke into the fray, efficiently strangling the words that had built up in Charlie's throat. Charlie and Amy shut their eyes and groaned together at the fact that they had been interrupted _again_ just as everyone else turned to look at the newcomer to the dinner party. A ragged and worn Remus stood in the fading light of the doorway, smiling faintly at those gathered around the table. "I'm afraid I lost track of time." He quickly seated himself, politely brushing off Molly's mother-henning and fussing. Upon sight of the man, the mother had stood up and began to pile serving and serving of food onto his plate. Over his protests, the others returned to their own food and conversations, leaving a defenseless Remus in the hands of an incessantly coddling Molly.

Amy looked over at Charlie, her shoulders slumping in a shrug with a, "what-can-you-do-about-it?" look on her face. Charlie grumbled a bit under his breath, hating that he had been interrupted yet again just as he was about to make his-their announcement.

After ensuring that Remus could actually serve himself, Molly returned to her seat, and Charlie tried again, hoping that third time was really the charm.

"So, Mum," Charlie prompted earnestly, scooting a tad closer to his mother, "I was just about to tell you something really important. I'm dat-"

"Molly," Fleur's accented voice cut in smoothly, the witch barely noticing as both Charlie and his mother grimaced, although both for different reasons. "Bill and I were talking about ze wedding, and we both agree zat it should be 'ere, at ze Burrow. We thought it would be best to tell you now so zat we could start planning as soon as possible." Molly's eyes were wide as she stared between the blonde witch and her eldest son.

"Oh really, now?" Molly asked, her voice tight. "You both thought that?" Bill must have noticed the strain in his mother's voice for he jumped forward to protect his witch from his mother's wrath.

"Well, yeah," Bill agreed leaning forward in earnest. "I mean, Mum, this is where I grew up, and I honestly couldn't think of a better place for our wedding." He threw an arm over Fleur's chair, pulling her into his shoulder whilst paying no attention to the grimace that spread across his mother's face. "Plus, you always said you would want one, if not all, of us to be married here." He looked imploringly at his mother who sniffed delicately, folding her napkin carefully.

"Well, I suppose if it's really what you want," she complied lightly, though all who were watching saw her jaw clenched tightly at the sound of Fleur's squealing laughs. To Molly's displeasure, Fleur leaned forward immediately, beginning to babble away about random things that no male at the table would be able to comprehend. Charlie was able to grasp something about a marquee and table cloths and colors or something of the sort, and while his mother did seem displeased about Bill's choice in fiancé, she was undoubtedly pleased that her eldest was getting married (even if she thought that Fleur was a dumb blonde witch with a hidden agenda).

Amy glanced between the witches as well, knowing that their conversation would go on for quite some time, and so, instead of joining into their conversation, she turned away so that she was facing the opposite end of the table where the Weasley kids and friends were busy chattering away about an upcoming Quidditch match. Charlie would have also joined into the conversation (he quite wanted to tell Ron to give up on the Chudley Cannons) but he could already feel his Gryffindor bravery slipping away as the voices around him continued to get louder and louder. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push the noises from his mind but to no avail. His head was beginning to pound and ache as the voices grew incessantly louder, taking over his thoughts in a deluge.

Tablecloths and centerpieces.

Gudgeon versus Brankovitch.

Purple or yellow.

Win or lose.

"Amy and I are dating!"

The voices in his head grew silent as did those in the room, and Charlie finally opened his eyes cautiously to find the eyes of everyone in room on him. Silence reigned over the room, broken only by the chirping crickets and the clicking of his mother's knitting needles as they created something in a corner. The Twins had frozen rather comically, their cheeks stuffed to the point of exploding with food and Ron appeared to be covered in the juice from his glass. Harry merely looked confused while Hermione and Ginny had wide-eyed looks of wonder in their eyes as the glanced between the dragon-keeper and their teacher. Lupin was looking at his food, rather uncertain as to what he should do, while Arthur peered curiously at his son and his children's teacher from over his glasses. Charlie swallowed, looking across the table at Bill and Fleur, the latter of which had her head turned to the side as she looked between Amy and Charlie. The second Weasley child refused to turn to his right, not wanting to see the expression on his mother's face; so instead, he looked shiftily over at Amy who was staring at him blankly. It seemed as though only Mad-Eye had not heard him for he continued to gnaw greedily on his food.

"Mate," Bill whispered from across the table. "This is not exactly what I meant." Charlie would have glared at him if his mother hadn't decided to speak up right then.

"Would you repeat that, Charlie?" Molly asked quietly, staring intently at her son. Charlie swallowed, looking up only after Amy gripped his hand tightly in hers under the table.

"Amy and I are dating," Charlie repeated much slower this time and looking his mother straight in the eye to show just how sincere he was being. Amy smiled a bit from his left, nodding just a bit to show that it was true. Another moment of silence broken only by Moody's eating passed by before…

"Oh my goodness!" Molly practically flew out of her seat, wrapping a startled Amy and Charlie in her arms by their necks. She squeezed them tightly to her, smiling and jabbering on about something that no one could really understand. She finally pulled away, allowing them to take in several gasps of air before proclaiming loudly. "I knew it all along, and I mean, finally! Your father and I were beginning to think you wouldn't have the guts Charlie."

"That's exactly what I said, Mum," Bill broke in, winking at the two and reveling in their obvious embarrassment. Molly continued to squeeze Amy and Charlie's shoulders for a moment before she realized what her eldest had just said.

"Wait you know about them?" Molly demanded, straightening up to look at her son, who shrugged noncommittally, keeping a lax arm around his fiancé's shoulders.

"I may have," he neither admitted nor denied, beginning to eat again. Charlie snorted at his brother and narrowed his eyebrows together.

"Actually, Mum, he's known for more than a week now," Charlie told his mother, enjoying the look that crossed Bill's face as Molly now turned on him, her hands on her hips. Desperately, the cursebreaker shouted out the first thing that came to his mind.

"Well, they've been dating since Christmas holidays!" Bill shot back and the couple flinched as Molly turned to face them again.

"And all this time I've been trying to get the two of you together!" Molly cried, throwing her hands into the air. "I could have been working on, well on something else!" Amy could have sworn the woman looked over at Remus, but she quickly brushed it off, blaming it on her fading nerves over the whole situation. Molly continued to rave over the two for several minutes, much to the couple's discomfort, while the others finished up their dinners and quickly set in on the tray of desserts in the center of the table. Though Amy was unnerved by the attention she was receiving from Molly, she felt as though it was all worth it just to be able to hold Charlie's hand away from the tablecloth and to not be afraid to be caught looking at each other. Her Weasley seemed to agree with this because he did in fact angle his chair a bit so that he was a tad closer to Amy than he would be a mere acquaintance.

As the night continued to drone on and much of the attention remained on the newly revealed couple, Ron and his friends rapidly grew tired of the gushing of the Weasley mother and excused themselves as quickly as possible, but not before Ron stopped to tell Amy that he thought she could do much better. The look on Charlie's face would have been humorous were it not for the fact that it was accompanied with a swift smack of the head to the youngest Weasley son. Amy smiled a bit, shaking her head, but not before catching the wink that Hermione sent her as she exited the room. That witch certainly had called their relationship long before it began… she may have the potential of being the next Molly Weasley Matchmaker.

…..

It was only after Ginny and the Twins excused themselves that Amy and Charlie declared that it was time for them to leave. They were, of course, quickly hounded by Molly with plates of food and desserts to take with them, and she refused to take no for an answer. So each with a plate in their hands, Amy and Charlie waved good-bye, but not before Amy was pulled into a massive hug.

"I'm glad you finally got him to come to his senses," Molly whispered into her ear, and all Amy could do was smile. She pulled away, pressing her lips into a faint smile before moving back next to Charlie and taking his hand in hers. Molly beamed at their intertwined hands, waving as they turned, Apparating away from the Burrow and back into Amy's apartment.

"I told you it wouldn't be so bad."

"I told you that!"

"You snapped again."

"Shut up."

…..

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, I know it was quite a bit of fun to write. Thanks again all!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	45. Chapter 44

**AN:** Hey all! Here's the next chapter! I'm not exactly sure how I feel about this particular chapter, but it is kind of fluffy and it's also kind of... dramatic? I don't know... it started off one way and went another. I'm not sure I like how these scenes go together, but I don't think they can be put in as separate chapters either so... blah... here you go. Also, this may or may not be my last update for awhile. I leave town on Saturday and my grandmother's house may or may not have internet, I don't know. That's the problem with going to the country while in the midst of writing a fanfic... sigh... anyway... on with the show!_  
><em>

**Dedication: **Happy Birthday Aunt Debbie!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing you recognize.

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><p><em>RINNNNG. RINNNNG. RINNNNG.<em>

Amy shot into consciousness, sitting up in a pool of sheets. Her eyes were wide but her vision blurry. Yet through the fog of sleep that was still wrapped tightly around her brain, Amy was unable to detect exactly where the blaring noise was coming from. She squeezed her eyes together as the noise continue to interrupt the silent night, and Charlie, who was still lying down next to her, groaned and pulled his pillow over his head. Glancing at his prone form and not wanting him to awaken completely, Amy stumbled out of the bed and shuffled wildly out of the room, following the ringing towards the front of her apartment. In the shadows of the room, she was able to find her way to her desk, where an old Muggle telephone was cheerfully ringing despite the lateness and silence of the night.

Ripping the phone from its dock, Amy fell against the desk wearily, before placing the phone near her ear.

"Hello?" she croaked out, her voice gruff from having been awoken from her slumber. It was a miracle that she had actually made it to the desk and not stumbled into a wall and knocked herself out. She couldn't imagine who would be calling her. She didn't know anyone in England who could use a phone, and her mother sure as hell wouldn't be calling her at this time of night. The witch hoped it was just someone dialing the wrong number so that she could get back to bed. It had been less than a minute and she was already missing the comfort of Charlie's arms around her waist and the warmth of her sheets.

"A-Amy?" a voice hiccupped from the other line. "Amy, are you there?" The witch restrained from rolling her eyes.

"No, I'm not here," the exhausted woman drawled, rubbing her eyes blearily. "Now, who is this?"

"It's, um, it's Michelle," the quiet voice stammered, and all of Amy's weariness washed away.

"Michelle?" Amy asked, reaching over the desk to turn on a lamp. A warm orange glow filled the room, casting out several feet but not making it anywhere close to the bedroom door where Charlie was still sleeping. "Michelle, why are you calling me? It's three in the morning."

The witch could hear a distinct groan from the other line. "I'm sorry," Michelle apologized, taking a breath that Amy could hear even from her end. "I completely forgot about the time difference, but… I just… I needed to talk to you."

"About what?" Amy demanded stonily. She looked down at her desk, before brushing aside some paper work and jumping up onto the edge of her desk. She ran a hand through her mussed-up curls, sighing gruffly. She hadn't talked to Michelle since she had returned to England to help Harry at the Ministry, and she hadn't _really _talked to her friend since before she had admitted to dating Amy's brother. So the witch didn't quite understand what was so important that Michelle would be calling her in the dead of night.

"About…" Michelle trailed off a bit, and Amy could practically hear her swallow. "About…"

"Michelle, as fun as this has been," Amy interrupted, her lack of sleep and agitation with the girl gaining the best of her, "I have work in the morning, so if you wouldn't mind hurrying up with your stammering." She knew she was being cold, but in her opinion, she had every right to be. After all, Michelle had been the one to keep the secret from her. Amy had all the rights in the world to be upset with her… right?

"You told me once that I should call you if, if I-" she broke off.

"If you what?" Amy asked, racking her brain for any recognition of what Michelle was talking about. She was, unfortunately, coming up blank. She was pretty confident though that she had never given Michelle permission to call her at hellish hours of the night. Amy did appreciate her sleep after all.

"I've been having these feelings," Michelle said breathily, as though it pained her to say it. "Feelings like the ones I used to have when I was younger." She paused, allowing her words to worm themselves into Amy's mind. The witch shuddered in her apartment before sitting up, very much alert now.

"I'm going to need you to expand a bit, Shell," Amy pressed, her eyes wide and demanding as she listened to her friend's harsh breathing on the other end. "Because we all have a lot of feelings when we're younger. Teenage girls and whatnot." Silence fell over the two, though Amy did nothing to break the quiet as she sat worriedly on her work desk.

"Feelings like the ones I had that night," Michelle professed shakily, and Amy's breath caught in her throat as she was flooded with the memories from that night. Despite the warmth of her apartment and the summer heat from the night, the witch could almost feel the chill of _that _night seep into her bones, and she shivered wrapping an arm tightly around herself.

"Michelle," Amy said urgently, "Michelle, listen to me. I can promise you right now that no matter what is going on with you right now, it's not bad enough that you should be thinking about that. I swear."

"What if it is?" Michelle asked weakly, and Amy felt her throat close tightly at the sound of her friend's tear-thick voice. Michelle was always the happy one. She always had a positive outlook on everything. She always had a joke to be told or something silly to do just for the heck of it. She was the one you could get mad at only for smiling too much. Or at least, she had been. The teen years had most definitely been difficult on Michelle, and her self-confidence had certainly taken the fall for it, as well as her will to live at a particularly dark point.

Amy now vividly remembered the days after that night years ago. Despite Michelle's pleas and begs, Amy had felt the need to tell her friend's parents what had transpired that night. She would rather have her friend be alive and furious with her for doing something than to hate herself for not doing something and allowing Michelle to hurt herself. While the Scotts had been hesitant to believe the fifteen year old, they eventually took her words to heart, realizing that she would never lie about something so serious. So despite Michelle's wishes, her parents brought her to the hospital, not knowing what else they could do for the girl, and Amy spent every day during that winter break at Michelle's bedside. She told stories and brought photos and CDs, anything she could think of that may cheer up her downtrodden friend. Yet, Michelle never said a word to her and chose to instead stare stonily out the window during each other the witch's visits, while Amy prattled on and on about whatever came to her mind.

She remembered how even on the last day of her break, the day before she was to return to Salem, Michelle refused to say a word to her. Amy was practically in tears, almost ripping her hair out in frustration, desperate for Michelle to say something, _anything_, to her, but her friend simply stared at the wall, her mouth shut and her jaw clenched. Despondently, Amy had stood up, forcing herself not to cry as she gripped her friend's hand tightly in hers, and she remembered leaning down to hug her close to her and whispering in her ear.

"_I want you to call me if you every think about doing this again. Anytime of the day or night. Call me."_

Amy swallowed, tears welling up in her eyes as she glanced over at her bedroom door, before gripping the Muggle phone tightly in her hands. She had known that Michelle had battled with these feeling on and off for years after her suicide attempt and she knew that she always would. Years of pent up emotions and taunts and teases led to years of self-consciousness and hatred; it wasn't something that could be healed overnight, and it had obviously come back to haunt her friend.

"If it's as bad as you think it is," Amy said softly, her voice cracking and gruff from the tears in her throat and eyes. "It can only get better."

An eerie silence fell over the two, lasting for several minutes. During that time, Amy hopped off her desk, moving into the suede chair nearby. She curled her legs underneath herself, pulling a random pillow onto her lap as she listened to the bated breaths of her friend on the other line. She was hesitant to say anything; wanting to give Michelle all the time she needed, not wanting to pressure the woman.

"Shell, what could possibly have happened to make you feel like this again?" Amy heard a sardonic laugh from the other end, an eerie one that sounded nothing like her usually happy-go-lucky friend.

"What hasn't happened?" Michelle sneered. "The apartment was flooded, I was fired and lost the grant that I've spent the last year and a half working on, my parents are completely disappointed in me, and one of my best friends refuses to really talk to me because I'm dating her brother! A brother, may I add, that barely talks to me as of late because we're arguing all the time!"

"Well," Amy said, speaking slowly as she tried to gather up whatever 'teacherly', sage advice she may have gathered up from her time at Hogwarts (there had to be a reason she was the head of Ravenclaw after all), "So you're a bit down on your luck-" Michelle snorted on the other end but Amy plowed on, "-but think about how foolish your boss is going to feel when he realizes he just lost one of the best architectural students in Chicago, and not only that but one who was well on her way towards obtaining a grant that would benefit not only herself but the entire company as well."

"Why would he fire me if I'm so good then?" Michelle demanded.

"Because he's an idiot," Amy replied dismissively. "Your apartment was flooded? Get a new one. I'm pretty sure there was mold growing in the vents and ceiling at that place anyway.

"And you think your parents are disappointed in you? I'm a freakin' witch with magical powers and yet every other week my mom calls to tell me something extraordinary that my siblings have done, before trying to convince me that I still have the opportunity to live a normal life and leave all this crap behind.

"As for my brother," Amy sighed, shaking her head as her sleep-mussed curls fell into her hair. "Well, he's always been a little stupid. Don't get me wrong, he can be intelligent when he wants to, but that's in between his sassy mood swings and belligerence. Don't give up on him just yet. He's not one to let someone into his heart so easily, so if you've made in, dig your nails in and don't let go."

Silence fell between the two, though Amy could clearly hear Michelle's huffing and grumbling from the other line. Amy let her head fall back, the phone nestled close to her ear as she sat there listening to the content silence that had fallen over the women. The witch sat there shivering for several minutes as she allowed her mind to travel back to that night. The screeching tires and frigidness of the winter air, it all came rushing back to her. Since the incident with the dementor a little more than a year ago, Amy had tried not to think much of the night, and it was not until the night at the Ministry, when Avery had infiltrated not only the department but her thoughts and memories as well, that she really, truly allowed herself to be pulled back into the memory of that night.

The witch knew that she had gone over with Michelle what had happened after the third Task, and that her friend had assured her that her actions were entirely her own and were not something that the witch could have prevented. Yet, Amy always had doubts about that testament. She was one of Michelle's best friends and as such, she should have realized much earlier on what was going on with her friend. She should have noticed the slight changes in her attitude, the way she had added a sharp tone to many of her words, and most of all the way she had begun to act towards those who tried to hold any control over her. Amy had assumed at first that it was simply her friend's way of being a rebellious teenager, by lashing out at the restraints placed upon her by her parents and by the demanding Muggle society. The witch had never though in her young age that her friend may have been trying to get someone's attention, that she was making a cry for help.

"Amy?" Michelle's voice broke through the quiet that thousands of miles of water and land had put between them. The witch in question straightened in her curled position, holding the phone a bit closer to her ear.

"Yeah Shell?" Amy asked, her voice soft and lofty in the quiet din of her apartment.

"I'm sorry for not telling you about me and Rich," the woman said meekly, and the witch could tell by the inflection of her voice that she feared Amy was still upset with her. Amy snorted quietly, running a hand through her hair.

"In all honesty, Michelle," Amy said, wiggling so as to get more comfortable in her seat, "I'm not as horribly upset about it as I thought I was. I think I was just a tad shell shocked and it didn't really help that my dad had just been admitted to the hospital."

To the witch's relief, Michelle giggled lightly on the other end. "Yeah, you're probably right," she laughed. "Probably wasn't the best timing, was it?"

The friends laughed together, really laughed, for the first time in what seemed like ages. Before Lana had been admitted to the hospital, the two women hadn't seen each other since the previous summer, seeing as Amy had spent the winter holidays burrowed away with Charlie. It was an obvious relief to both of them for them to be able to laugh with each other again. They didn't need to say exactly how much they had missed the other for the feeling was most definitely mutual.

"Seeing as we're talking again," Michelle started, a sly tone creeping into her voice. "Do you want to tell me about your own secret guy?" Amy could practically see the smirk on her friend's face as well as the suggestive wiggling of her eyebrows, and the witch knew she should have prepared herself for this. Georgie and Katherine had been too drunk to ask her about Charlie when she had been in Chicago, but Michelle was a sober as could be. "Seems as though you've been holding out just as much as I have."

Amy glanced down the hall towards the room where she knew her 'secret guy' was resting, and a smile tugged at her lips. For a brief moment, she missed the warmth of the sheets and his arms around her, but that faded away as she began to speak into the phone again. She could be with Charlie every day for… well, possibly forever, but right now she needed to be there for her friend in the only way she could.

"What is it you want to know, Shelly?"

"Everything."

…..

Charlie awoke the next morning to find Amy missing from the bed. He rubbed his eyes blearily as he sat up, the sheets pooling around his waist as he yawned, looking for any sign of the witch in the room. Groaning and stretching the entire way, Charlie pushed himself out of the bed and exited the bedroom. He shuffled a bit, running a calloused hand through his hair as he made his way through Amy's apartment.

"Amy?" Charlie called softly, his voice gruff with sleep. There was no response, and Charlie shuffled a bit faster down the hall. He couldn't allow himself to panic, not yet at least.

In an instant though, all of his worries left him as he spied Amy curled up in her chair, her legs curled beneath her, a pillow resting on her knees, and her old Muggle phone tucked tightly between her hands and head. And for the first time in a long time, her face was free of stress, a small smile spread across her face.

…..

"Can we get another round over here?"

The small wizard bar was jam packed with witches and wizards. Music was blaring through a wizard radio and there were continuous calls for more drinks. The more rowdy crowd was centered as close to the bar as possible so that they were always in reach of their next shot of Firewhiskey. Yet nestled further back in the bar, away from the ruckus of the rambunctious, party wizards and witches, were quiet booths, half bathed in the shadows, and it was in the booth furthest in the corner that one would find Amy and Charlie. The couple was burrowed away in the booth, several bottles of Butterbeer spread out across the table, and large smiles were spread across their faces. This was the couple's first _real _date night, the first time that they weren't completely concerned about someone finding out about them. The figured that since Charlie's family now knew they were together, they could let their relationship become public. Not completely public, after all they did enjoy their privacy, but not the locked-away relationship that they had in the beginning.

"I'm completely serious!" Charlie was saying, his eyes bright and twinkling as he watched the witch across from him laugh and clutch her stomach in mirth. "It was honestly one of the most embarrassing moments of my life! One moment I'm working and my clothes are completely fine, and the next one of the Greenbacks is spewing out fire and my pants are gone!" Amy's giggles were taking over her entire body and tears were beginning to well up in her eyes. Charlie allowed himself to chuckle as well, shaking his head.

"I-I am never going to let you live this down!" Amy gasped through her laughter, hiccupping in between giggles. "Oh Merlin, that's _priceless_!" She erupted into giggles again, sound very much like a teenage girl, while Charlie merely rolled his eyes taking a sip from his bottle.

"Neither did the guys," Charlie said, running a hand through his ginger hair. "They never let me forget that I had to run back to my room without pants, and trust me, I wish they had." Amy's giggled began to die down but the wide smile on her face remained, bright and unbroken.

"Oh Charlie," Amy smiled fondly as she reached across the table to take his hand in hers. "I find your humiliation to be very amusing." Charlie narrowed his eyes a bit, glaring playfully at the witch.

"Just as bad as my brothers, aren't you?" He asked gruffly. Amy smirked as she leaned in close to the wizard across the table.

"Worse," she whispered mischievously, winking cheerfully at the wizard. He smiled back at her, and a warm, content silence fell over the two. Their linked hands were still on the table, resting next to the empty Butterbeer bottles. Amy looked down at their hands, watching the gentle way that Charlie's thumb caressed the back of her hand, and she squeezed his hand tightly. The bar was warm and the atmosphere alluring and the witch suspected that there may be trace amounts of alcohol in the Butterbeer because she certainly wasn't thinking clearly as she leaned across the table. Closer and closer, she allowed her lips to grow nearer towards Charlie's, and Amy was a breath away from Charlie's lips, lips on which she could smell the sweet butterscotch scent of his drink…

"Weasley!" The couple froze, their lips barely brushing against the others, and they opened their eyes suddenly, their brows wrinkling a bit in confusion. "I thought that was your ginger mop!" Charlie groaned as he recognized the voice and the two pulled apart quickly, settling back into the seats as Adam Moore approached their isolated booth. Charlie's 'Golden Boy' co-worker was sauntering towards the couple, a bright glass of Firewhiskey in his hand. The cocky blighter obviously had a few drinks in him already for his swagger was a bit unbalanced and his eyes bloodshot in the corners.

"Moore," Charlie greeted grudgingly, raising his bottle towards the blonde. "Having a good night?"

Adam nodded, his lips pressed together stupidly. "Hell yeah, mate!" he cried, saluting Charlie with his drink. "Damn _fine _night." He winked sloppily and wolfishly, obviously not noticing the witch also seated at the booth. "I see you finally came out of your recluse, hidey hole. I mean really, what are you? A weasel?" He chortled loudly, his drink almost spilling onto the table, and Charlie let out a few strangled chuckles of his own, but Amy could see the wizard's clenched jaw and tight fist around his bottle of Butterbeer. As Adam's laughter began to die down, he flicked his hair from his eye before raising his glass to his lips and as he took a large gulp of the Firewhiskey, he caught sight of Amy seated across from Charlie. Immediately, he sputtered, pulling his glass away from his mouth and using his shirt to wipe away the spittle from his coughing.

In an instant, Moore had settled himself besides the witch, throwing an arm around the back of the booth. His fingertips dangled ever so slightly over Amy's shoulder, and he smiled cockily at her, not even seeing the fire light up in Charlie's eyes or the way that the witch went still, her lips pursed together in a McGonagall-esque fashion.

"Well hello there, Professor," Adam said obviously attempting to seem suave even though he had almost coughed his drink all up moments ago. "My night certainly just got better."

Amy bit her tongue to prevent herself from speaking without thinking. "How are you, Adam?" she asked, forcing herself to be as polite as possible. She could feel his fingertips playing with her curls that tumbled over her shoulders, and she pinched her leg to stop herself from slapping his hand away from her.

"Oh, I'm just great," he slurred leaning in close. Amy could smell the alcohol on his breath and she cringed slightly. "Real happy to see you again. Charmed even." He winked and the witch blatantly rolled her eyes. On the other side of the table, Charlie cleared his throat loudly and set his bottle down with a clang. Adam looked away from Amy, his eyes narrowing a bit at the interrupting man before he finally realized that the witch wasn't only there at the bar but she was seated across from his co-worker, and his forehead crinkled together immediately as he looked back at Amy.

"What are you doing here with Weasley?" he asked. He laughed suddenly. "You two aren't on a date are you?" He laughed as though this idea was absurd and his arm slipped off the back of the booth and around Amy's shoulders. He continued to chortle as Amy and Charlie sat there awkwardly, until the witch finally couldn't handle his chuckles and moved herself so she was facing Adam now.

"Actually, yes we are," Amy said, an irritated inflection laced into her voice. She reached across the table, pulling Charlie's clenched hand away from his bottle and lacing her fingers through his once more. Adam's laughter died down at that he looked between the witch and redheaded wizard hands which were collapsed tightly together, Amy's hand incredibly slight compared to Charlie's large, calloused one. The witch obviously thought that her statement would scare the man away and that he would leave the couple alone, but to her disappointment and fury, he began to laugh again.

"You and Charlie?" he sneered. Rolling his eyes, eyes that Amy noted to be a color almost identical to Charlie's but were much colder and harsh than the Weasley's. "Why on earth would you want to go on a date with him?" Charlie's fingers went lax around Amy's as though he was about to pull his hand away from the witch's, but Amy merely tightened her own grip on his hand, her nails digging into his skin gently. She opened her mouth to say something but Adam continued on, not even noticing the fire that was burning behind his tablemates' eyes. "I mean, he's a _Weasley_, so is this a pity date or something?"

"Not that it's any of your business," Amy snapped, her eyes flashing with a furious fire, "but Charlie and I have been dating since December." She smirked a bit at the look of shock that crossed Adam's face, not really caring that she had just revealed personal details to this tool. All she could focus on was Charlie's hand in her grip and the angry fire burning within her. She couldn't believe that Moore would say something so judgmental and hateful, and he was lucky that she didn't slug him. Charlie remained quiet on his end, his jaw still clenched together tightly.

She still felt his hand around her shoulder so she shrugged harshly, and his hand dropped away from her. Moore eyed the witch before glancing at Charlie, and a smirk spread across his face as he saw Charlie stony look, and the blonde leaned towards Amy, his eyes in Charlie the entire time as though her was taunting the man. He moved closer and closer to the witch until her was so close that his lips barely brushed the shell of her ear and her curls tickled his nose.

"I could give you everything you could ever want," he murmured, his bitter breath washing over her. "Unlike Weasley over there." His smirk grew a little because he knew Charlie had heard him, and even more, he knew that the redhead knew he was right. Weasleys were poor, the lowest of the low. Everyone knew that, even the Weasleys themselves. They could barely buy themselves food, so how could any of them be expected to make someone else happy. It simply wasn't possible. "No one would blame you for leaving the ginger, love. They would probably say you were fortunate." He moved his hand over her shoulder, brushing the curls off her shoulder and revealing her soft skin to him. His fingertips trailed down her arm and Amy shivered, hating the feel of his hands on her. He leaned forward a bit more, his eyes still on Charlie as his hand moved further down the witch's arm, falling into its new place on her thigh. Amy jerked as the coldness of his fingers seeped through her clothes and into her leg, and Charlie's eyes left the witch's face to follow Moore's hand down her body. Adam smirked against the side of her head as the Weasley grew rigid in his seat as he whispered his final words. "Fortunate enough to get me."

Amy's eyes flashed and she found she wasn't able to hold her fury back any longer. She turned harshly in her seat, ready to push the man off her and hex him into next week, only to have him pulled away from her in a flash, his hand slipping off her leg as he was forced into a standing position. Amy looked up, her eyes still furious as she saw that Charlie had also cracked and had the collar of Moore's shirt tightly in his fist. Moore was looking cockily at the redhead and was daring enough to wink back at Amy before Charlie shook him until the blonde's attention was back on him.

"Keep your hands off her," Charlie ordered, his voice harsher and colder than Amy had ever heard it. Moore smirked at him, as though the wizard's actions proved him right, and before the witch knew it, Charlie had let his fist fly and Adam was down on the ground clenching his fight in his hand and sobbing through his fingers.

Amy gasped quietly while Moore continued to groan and cry as all eyes in the bar fell on the trio. Charlie didn't even notice the stares as he rubbed his hand, glaring down at the blonde wizard before grabbing his wand from the bench and pushing his way towards the door of the establishment. Amy was still seated in her seat in the secluded booth and as the bar door closed all eyes fell on her. Her cheeks grew rosy at the attention and she pulled several coins out of her pocket, throwing them on the table top before following Charlie out of the bar, leaving Adam in a mess of his own blood and tears.

…..

"Charlie!" Amy cried as she ran after the wizard. "Charlie, wait!" He didn't listen though as he continued to make his way along the cobblestone path. The witch was surprised he hadn't Apparated the second he had left the bar, but she wasn't going to take this for granted. Sighing, Amy sped up, pushing herself to catch up to the furious wizard. She knew he was furious; that his anger was likely still rolling off him in waves, but Amy wasn't about to just let him wander off to sulk in his moodiness.

With a final push of her legs, the witch finally grasped onto Charlie's elbow, forcing him to turn around to look her in the eye. His jaw was clenched together tightly and his eyes were blazing with a fury Amy had never seen before and it was all Amy could do not to step away. The fire that was burning within him was unlike anything she had seen before and it frightened her a bit before she remembered this was Charlie, and he had just punched a guy in the face for her and for his family.

"Charlie," Amy breathed, trying to regain her breath. "Oh Merlin, Charlie are you alright?" The wizard said nothing as the witch took in several gulps of air. Her eyes, which had also held a fury similar to his own, were warm with concern and love as she looked up at her boyfriend.

He nodded jerkily, his jaw still clenched tightly together, hoping that would be enough to appease the witch, and even though she knew he was lying, Amy grabbed his hand, careful to avoid the hand he had used to punch Moore for it was beginning to swell at the knuckles. She squeezed his fingers tightly in hers, and even though Charlie didn't squeeze her hand back, the witch was relieved to feel his hand in hers again.

Slowly and in complete silence, Amy began to lead Charlie through the streets of the little Wizarding village that they were in. The night was chillier than usual and the witch moved closer to Charlie, leaning her head onto his shoulder, their hands still grasped together between them. Amy sighed as quietly as possible, but she felt Charlie grow rigid underneath her head and his hand slipped away from hers so that only his fingers remained in her grasp. Amy pulled away a bit but didn't move far from the wizard. She stared up at his stony face, devoid of all emotion except for the fury behind his eyes. Yet, there was something else hidden behind the fury, something Amy found to be unsettling, so the witch stopped in her steps, causing Charlie to stop as well. But instead of turning to look at Amy and find out why she had stopped, he merely stared ahead at the winding road, refusing to look at the witch.

Hesitantly, Amy moved so that she was in front of the wizard, staring up at his face, but he continued to stare straight ahead, right over her head.

"Charlie," Amy whispered, his hand still loose in hers. "Charlie, look at me." The wizard didn't move, and Amy would have thought him to be an ill-placed statue if he wasn't breathing in his fury-induced ragged way. Carefully, the witch raised a hand to Charlie's face, and gripping his tight jaw in her fingertips, she lowered his face so that he met her eye line.

His blue eyes were rimmed with red and she could tell that he was biting his tongue. She understood that he was upset by what Moore had said to her, but she didn't understand why he was still so upset. He had punched the man in the face and yet he still looked as though he would be furious for the rest of his life. But as she stared up into his eyes, Amy began to recognize the hidden emotion hidden deep behind his fury. It looked as though he was disgusted, although by what, Amy wasn't quite sure.

"Charlie," Amy pressed, her hand now resting against his cheek while the other hand pressed itself into his chest. "Don't listen to him, alright? He's an idiot and a cocky one at that. Everything he said is complete bull so do-"

"What if isn't bull?" Charlie interrupted, his face hard and his voice as gruff as it had been in the bar. "What if he has a point?"

"A point?" Amy asked, her voice conveying just how absurd an idea she thought this was. "What that I would be fortunate to have him or that Weasleys can only get pity dates?" She snorted, rolling her eyes. "Like I said, he's an idiot, especially if he thinks that he is any better than any member of your family."

"But he is," Charlie growled suddenly, stepping away so quickly that Amy's hands slipped away from him. "He could give you anything, he could give you _everything,_ and what can I give you?" He laughed coldly, and Amy shivered at his sardonic tone. Charlie plowed on without giving Amy a chance to say anything. "Nothing. That's what I can give you. Absolutely fucking nothing. I have nothing to give you in life, and like he said, no one would blame you for leaving me. They would tell you how fortunate you are to have escaped the struggles and woes of the Weasley family." He broke off, turning away from Amy as anger seeped into his tone, and yet it wasn't only angry Moore he was angry with himself as well. Who knows what he may have been keeping Amy from, what she may accomplish if she had someone who could give her everything. She deserved that. She deserved everything, and he couldn't give her that… he couldn't give her that, so why hold her down? Love only got you so far after all.

His breathing was still heavy even though several minutes of silence had passed between the two, and for a moment, Charlie thought Amy had understood the meaning behind his words and left. Instead however, Charlie could hear the witch come up behind him. She stopped just behind him, and he could feel her warmth emanating through his clothes. He shut his eyes, wishing that she would leave, wishing that she would realize that he simply wasn't good enough for her. That she deserved someone who could give her everything she could ever want and more, but instead she didn't leave. Instead, the witch grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around to face her once more.

Amy looked up at him with wide, soulful, sad eyes. She traced the line of his jaw with her fingertips, barely even allowing their skin to touch before she pushed herself onto her tip toes and pressed her lips furiously against his. Charlie groaned a bit and tried to pull back but Amy clung to him, her hand winding around his neck to keep him firmly pressed against her, and for several moments their lips moved passionately against the others.

When they finally did pull away, Amy's arms remained behind Charlie's neck, their noses barely touching as she stared up at him.

"Charlie Weasley," Amy murmured, her eyes never straying from him. "Moore couldn't give me anything because everything I could ever want is right here in my arms. _You're _my everything, and I couldn't care less if you were a Weasley, a Malfoy, or a freakin' flubberworm. All I care about is that you love me just as much as I love you, and you do love me, right? Because that's all I will ever need you to give me. All I need from you is for you to tell me you love me." Charlie couldn't pull his gaze away from hers and he knew he wouldn't be able to lie just then.

"More than anything," he whispered. "I love you more than anything." Amy smiled, and something caught in her throat, whether it was laughter or a sob she didn't know, and her eyes fluttered shut. He shut his eyes as well, pressing his forehead close to hers as she sighed.

"Good," she muttered back. "Because I sure as hell love you too, and no idiotic player is ever going to change my mind. I love you Charlie Weasley, and that's not going to be changing anytime soon. So you better get used to having me around, because I'm not ever leaving without a fight."

…_.._

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Low-key, but there was definitely some foreshadowing going on there, but it won't pop-up again until... well, much later. Charlie and Amy are not breaking up, so please don't send me reviews or messages yelling at me. I don't appreciate it (just kidding, I do actually). I felt as though I should show you that while Charlie is a big muscly man he does have feelings outside of those he has for Amy, and I think he would be just as sensitive about his family's status as Ron (I think all the Weasleys are a bit sensitive about it actually), so I thought I would show that off. Anyway, hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to review, it makes work so much easier to get through!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	46. Chapter 45

**AN: **Woah! Another chapter?! What is this insanity? Most of this was done on the train during my ride to work so... yeah... I leave Saturday night, so I may be able to get another chapter out by then, but don't get your hopes too high up, alright? This chapter is a little more dramatic than others, and I may or may not have the time frame off a bit, but I'm claiming artistic license so... deal with it?

**Dedication:** To all de wonderful (psychotic) people I met and worked with this summer! We're finally done!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing you recognize.

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><p>Moore showed up to work for the next several days with a swollen nose and blackened eye. He refused to tell anyone what had happened but he also refused to magic the marks away. He considered them marks of bravery, although what he had been brave about he refused to say. His lackeys agreed with their fearless leader but they couldn't help but notice the odd way Adam was acting towards Charlie, and they also couldn't help but notice Charlie's bruised and red knuckles the same day Moore appeared with his war wounds.<p>

…..

The witch knew something was wrong the second she had stepped out of the fire at the Leaky Cauldron. The establishment was usually bustling with business at all times of the day. That morning however, the pub was completely empty except for Tom the barkeeper, but even he was acting strangely from his post behind the bar. The moment the witch had tumbled out of the fireplace, he had drawn his wand and held it threateningly at his side as though she was a criminal. Hesitantly, the witch raised a hand in greeting. Tom did nothing in response, and Amy lowered her hand, her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. Slowly, so as to not seem dangerous, the witch made her way carefully to the back door that led to the alley, her mind racing. The barkeep was one of the kindest men Amy knew, and he usually greeted her each morning with a smile and jovial "good morning!" She had never seem him appear hostile, even with the rowdiest of drinkers and she shivered as she stood before the brick wall in the alley.

As her mind continued to ponder exactly what had just happened, Amy tapped her wand over the bricks, and the wall crumbled away to reveal the ever so popular Diagon Alley. All it took was a glimpse of her surroundings and Amy froze, her blood growing cold in the summer heat. Broken glass and smashed merchandise was scattered across the cobblestone path, and a dark cloud seemed to have settled over the entire marketplace. Newspapers and torn down wanted posters littered the ground and Amy recognized the maniacal faces of Bellatrix Lestrange and Avery.

As the witch stepped into the eerily quiet market, she saw scuttles in the shadows of the buildings and doorways as customers made their way as quickly through the shops as they could. Realizing that she was standing in the middle of destruction, Amy drew her wand and also stepped into the shadows. She followed the line of buildings further into the market, keeping as close to the shadows as possible. She had no idea what in Merlin had happened, and she hoped that her manager would be able to tell her what was going on.

Though the windows to Flourish and Blotts were unmarked, the inside of the shop was dark, and the towers of books created long, casting shadows in every corner of the room. She carefully edged her way into the tight space, her wand still held aloft.

"Mr. Walden?" Amy called quietly, moving slowly so as to not knock over any of the piled up books. "Mr. Walden, are you here?" There was a loud shuffling noise from behind her, and the witch spun around, her wand pointed threateningly.

"Amy, what are you doing here?" A short balding man popped his head out from behind a tower of books, his bushy eyebrows raised in a mixture of fear and surprise. Amy slowly lowered her wand as her manager made his way out from behind the stack of text. "You shouldn't be here!"

"Mr. Walden," Amy breathed, and relief was evident in her voice, "what's going on? What happened out there?" She pointed behind her at the broken alley.

The wizard looked over his shoulder as though he thought someone may be hiding behind him before leaning in close and gesturing for the witch to do the same. Amy took a step closer and leaned down so she could hear the man.

"Death Eaters," he whispered. His eyes were wide and his voice shaky. Amy blinked several times before looking back over her shoulder at the essentially empty market.

"Death Eaters? In Diagon Alley?" she asked her tone filled with disbelief. Walden nodded, his crazy white curls bouncing about.

"They took Ollivander," he whispered, and Amy felt dread set into her stomach. She had never met Ollivander personally, but she had seen the wizard from afar and had known of his prestigious reputation in the world. For him to be gone, for him to be _taken_, well, that was simply frightening. If they were going to kidnap a harmless, old man what was going to stop them from taking children and random witches and wizards, and why now? What good would a wandmaker be for Voldemort and his followers? It just didn't make any sense.

"I don't understand," Amy murmured. "What could they want with Ollivander?"

"Does it matter?" Walden cried, throwing his hands into the air. "What matters is that he's gone and you shouldn't be here right now. It's not safe."

"Mr. Walden," Amy said and her voice completely sincere and her eyes incredibly serious. "I don't think anywhere is safe right now."

…..

"Amy?" Charlie called as he entered the witch's apartment. "Amy, are you here?" The wizard's hair was a complete mess as he peered into the darkness of the witch's home. He had tried to leave the Ministry as soon as he had heard that Death Eaters had been spotted in Diagon Alley that morning. No one knew for sure if anyone was in fact missing or what had even happened, but all Charlie cared about was that Amy had work that day, and he knew that the witch was not one to run from a fight. He had tried to stay calm and focused on his work throughout the day, but any one of his coworkers could see that he was anxious to leave the office as soon as possible. The wizard had hoped that he would find Amy nestled on her couch with a book in hand, but from what he could see, the entire apartment was dark and empty.

Anxiety settled into the pit of his stomach and Charlie maneuvered his way around the couch and table, dropping his bag in the process. His mind was racing with all of the many possibilities, all of the horrible things that could have happened to the witch if she was in fact at Diagon Alley during the attack. She could be hurt, unconscious, bleeding, hell she could be dead. Amy wasn't one who simply stood out of others way and with many Death Eaters knowing she was a part of the Order, they would have no qualms about attacking her. His thoughts grew wilder and more irrational as he moved further into the witch's apartment, and his mind filled with images of her laying the shadows of the marketplace, completely alone as blood seeped out of her body and over the cobblestone path…

"Amy?" Charlie pushed the door open to her bedroom, his eyes wide and filled to the brim with panic. The witch looked up from her spot on the bed where she was working. Books and papers were spread out across the covers and Amy was balancing a piece of parchment and a well of ink on her crossed legs.

"Hey!" Amy greeted brightly. "I didn't hear you come in. I've been trying to get a head start on all these lesson plans and I guess I just got so into it. Did you know that there are over two hundred spells that exist which-" she broke off as Charlie practically jumped her, pulling the witch into a bone crushing embrace. Amy felt him shake a bit and she moved her hand to awkwardly pat him on the back.

"Hey," she said softly, "are you alright?" The witch felt him shiver as he pulled away, his eyes wide and glassy.

"Am I alright?" he asked, his voice disbelieving. "Are _you_ alright?" Amy cocked her head a bit as she looked curiously at the wizard. He looked panicked and frantic, and it appeared as though he had attempted to rip his hair out because his red hair was standing on end rather dramatically. What on earth was he so agitated about? Nothing had happened that day… Realization seemed to hit the witch in an instant, and she sighed, setting her quill, ink well and parchment down on one her nightstand.

"So, you heard huh?" the witch asked, running a hand through her tangled curls as she watched Charlie take a seat at the end of her bed.

"Heard?" Charlie asked. He began to slip off his work robes and roll up the sleeves of his shirt. "Amy, the entire world knows there were Death Eaters in Diagon Alley. I've been going crazy all day not knowing where you were! You could have been dead for all I know!"

Amy's eyebrows furrowed together. "Why exactly would I be dead?" she inquired.

"Uh, hello," Charlie said, holding his hands up with a 'duh' expression on his face. "Muggleborn witch who is part of the Order and also works in one of Diagon Alley's most popular shops? Ring a bell at all?" Amy sighed and leaned forward to put a soothing hand on the wizard's arm.

"Charlie, I didn't even get to Diagon Alley until hours _after _the attack," she said. "I've been so busy with the upcoming year and everything with the Order that I slept through my alarm, and by the time I actually got to Flourish and Blotts the only sign of Death Eaters was the broken glass on the ground. I swear I saw neither hide nor hair of a single Dark wizard. The second I stepped into the shop, Walden turned me around and told me to go straight home. He told me that it wasn't safe for me to be there, so I came here, and I've been here ever since then." Her eyes were wide and her words earnest and Charlie nodded shakily.

"Alright, alright," he said. He pushed aside the books and papers and gathered the witch into his arms. Immediately, Amy's body went lax and she allowed him to nestle their bodies back into the pillows at the head of the bed. "I just didn't know if you were okay and I was…" he paused, taking a deep breath. "I was just scared that something had happened to you."

"I'm fine," she promised the wizard. She sighed as she remembered something. "Which is more than I can say for Ollivander." Charlie's forehead crinkled together and he turned his head to look at the witch.

"Ollivander?" he asked. "What happened to Ollivander?" Amy sighed, shaking her head.

"They took him," she told him. "Merlin knows why, but they did." Charlie sat there, his arms wrapped tightly around Amy as he stonily mulled over this fact.

"That doesn't make any sense though," Charlie though aloud, and Amy hummed in agreement as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"None of this does," she said softly. "I just wished there was something more I could do." Charlie looked down at the witch.

"Walden's right though," he told her, and Amy looked up at him, her eyebrow lifted curiously. "It isn't safe for you here." His eyes roamed over her face, watching at the dismissive expression she made before settling back into his arms.

"Trust me Charlie," Amy said almost smugly, "I can take care of myself."

He nodded a bit, running his hand up and down his arm as he thought about what Amy had just said. Charlie, of course, agreed with this statement, but he also knew that the Death Eaters knew how to take care of themselves as well, and they weren't ones to not fight dirty. She may know how to take care of herself but the Death Eaters knew every way in the book to hurt her. He also knew that Amy would do _anything_ to help anyone, even risking her own life, and at the thought of that, Charlie began to form a plan.

Amy might know how to protect herself, but Charlie was going to make sure nothing hurt her, even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness. Even hers if that's what it took.

…..

"Come on, Charlie," Amy called impatiently from the door. "We're going to be late and I don't want anyone getting any funny ideas." The couple was due for dinner at the Burrow once more and seeing as the summer holidays were coming to a close, this was likely to be Amy's last Weasley dinner for a while. She had been ready to go for some time now, but Charlie seemed to be taking his sweet time despite her persistence. She looked down at her watch again, and began to tap her foot. She really did hate to be late to things.

Charlie finally emerged from his bedroom with a stony look on his face, but all Amy noted was that he was still dressed in the same clothes he had gone in with, and she threw him a disbelieving look.

"Really?" she asked. "If you weren't changing, what was taking you so long? Doing your make-up?" She expected that the wizard to smile at least a little at her joke but his face remained ever so serious and she quirked her head at him, eyeing his face. "You okay there, Charlie?"

The wizard looked her in the eye, noting the innocent gleam in her eye and he sighed, looking down at his hands.

"Can we talk about something?" he asked suddenly, completely ignoring the witch's question. Amy eyebrows furrowed together a bit as she looked at the wizard. She crossed her arms over her chest and adjusted her stance.

"I don't know, Charlie," she said, looking down at her watch again. "Your Mom said she wanted us there at six and it's already-"

"My Mum can wait, alright," Charlie interrupted. He looked up at the witch, his expression solemn. "This can't." Amy blinked in surprise at him. It wasn't like Charlie to voluntarily agree to blow his mother off, even for a little while, and there was something in his inflection that bothered the witch. He had been acting off ever since the attack in Diagon Alley, and she had thought at first that he was merely rattled by what had happened to Ollivander.

"S-Sure," Amy stammered. Charlie sighed as though in relief before gesturing for the witch to take a seat on the couch. Eyeing him strangely, Amy crossed the room and sat down on the very edge of cushions as Charlie moved to sit on the edge of the table in front of her. They were mere inches between them but the silence that settled around them made her feel as though they were miles apart. Charlie rested his arms on his legs and looked down at his hands. His fingers were twisting together in a nervous fashion and Amy could do nothing but watch this frantic twitch of his.

She licked her lips and shifted a bit in her seat as she felt anxiety of her own settle into her person. "What is it you want to talk about?" she asked, clasping her hands together. More silence passed between them which did nothing to settle the anxiousness in her stomach. Her mind was racing and her thoughts were running in every which way, including delving into those dark corners of her mind that she tried hard to stay away from.

_He has to go back to Romania. Someone's hurt. Someone's dead. He's breaking up with me._

The last thought made her eyes widen dramatically and she felt her breath hitch in her throat at the thought. If he was breaking up with her… well that would explain his behavior from the past few days. He had been hesitant around her, quieter as though he was always in thought. She constantly found him muttering under his breath and gripping his hair as though the ideas in his mind were driving his mad. Or perhaps… their relationship was driving his mad. Maybe what Adam had said to him days before had actually convinced him that he wasn't good enough for her, that he was holding her back.

Amy's hand shot out and grasped the wizard's hand tightly in hers, gripping his fingers between her own. Charlie looked up slowly, his eyes dark and contemplative. "Charlie, tell me what's going on. Now." Her eyes searched his for several moments, peering into the sad look that was filling his bright blue eyes.

"I've been thinking a lot about us lately," Charlie started, adjusting his legs so that they were on either side of Amy's. "And everything else that's going on out there and it's just with Ollivander's disappearance and those who continue to go missing day by day, well it makes you think." His eyes traced over Amy's face, taking in the slope of her nose and the softness of her sun-tinged cheeks, and for a moment, he imagined never being able to see her face again, to never be able to wake up with her arms wrapped around his torso and her head on his chest. "And like I said, I've been doing a lot of thinking."

Amy swallowed and nodded her head jerkily as she listened to his words, not exactly sure where he was going with this while at the same time wishing he wasn't going where she thought he was.

"Thinking about what exactly?" the witch asked, her voice slightly strained.

"About us and what's going to happen when the war finally does break out," Charlie said simply, and Amy couldn't understand how he could be so calm about this conversation. She was most definitely freaking out on the inside and she didn't even know where this conversation was heading. She refrained from looking down at her watch again, knowing that the couple was already late to dinner. The witch wondered for a moment who would be the one to tell Molly if they did in fact break up. The mother had been trying forever to get them together and Amy didn't think she would take it lightly to find out her son had broken up with her. It also struck Amy how incredibly awkward it would be to teach Ron and Ginny knowing that they knew their brother had dumped her so soon after stepping out.

She was so focused on her own thoughts that she almost missed what the wizard said next.

"I've got to say that I really do agree with Mr. Walden about how it's not safe-"

"Wait, Mr. Walden?" Amy interrupted holding up a hand to cut Charlie off. "What does Walden have to do with any of this? With us?"

Charlie blinked at her. "Well, he's the one who got me thinking about this," Charlie replied in an obvious manner.

"Thinking about what?" Amy demanded, straightening her shoulders so that she was almost the same height as Charlie in her seated position. If he was going to break up with her, then she wasn't about to take it like a teenage girl, no matter how much it might hurt.

"Well thinking about what you're going to do when the war breaks out," the red head answered carefully, hesitant to see the witch's reaction.

"What I'm going to do?" Amy asked, laughing a bit and causing Charlie to be filled with unease. "I'm going to fight that's what I'm going to do."

Charlie sighed and looked the witch in the eye. His lips were pressed together tightly and he rubbed a hand over his forehead harshly, the skin turning red under his calloused hand.

"Or…" he trailed off, cocking his head a bit.

"Or what?" Amy asked. "What else could I possibly do?" There was a pause as Amy waited for the answer but it didn't take long for Charlie to tell her.

"You could go home," he said simply before thinking about what he had just said. "You _should _go home." Amy blinked at him before cocking her head as she looked at the wizard. Home? She was home. This was home.

"Charlie, this is my home" the witch reminded him, speaking her thoughts. She wasn't exactly sure what he was trying to get at and she thought for a moment that the summer heat was getting to his head. Charlie sighed realizing she didn't understand and he brushed his hair back and out of his face.

"I mean," he said softly, not looking the witch in the eye this time. "I think you should go back to America, back to Chicago with your parents." Amy's eyes went wide and she leaned away quickly, her hands slipping out of their grasp.

"You want me to leave England?" Amy asked, her voice filled with hurt and her expression one of complete disbelief. "You want me to leave you?"

Charlie licked his lips and bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from taking it all back. The despondent look on her face was enough to make him drop to his knees and beg for her forgiveness. Of course he would have preferred for her to stay in England with him, somewhere that he could ensure she was safe, but… well, nowhere in England was safe and being with him wasn't going to do her much good. His entire family was blood traitors and she herself was a Muggleborn who supported Dumbledore. Already the odds were very much against her. Sucking up his own hurt, the wizard nodded.

"Yes," he told her. "I want you to leave because I want you to be safe. If you stay here once the war begins, you'll be in danger at every turn. Nothing with stop Voldemort or his followers from going after you. They will kill you if they find you which is why if you return to Chicago they won't be able to find you. You'll be safe and so will your family. I honestly think this is your only option."

"If I want to be a coward," Amy hissed, her eyes growing cold suddenly. At first she had been hurt at his suggestion, pained at the thought that he would want her to leave, but now, she was quickly growing furious. She may look young and she may be a witch, but that didn't mean she was incapable of protecting herself. She had fought against Death Eaters twice now and while she may have come out a little worse for the wear she had in fact come out. Charlie may care for her but he couldn't expect her to turn away from her responsibilities. He was the one who had told her that she was anything but selfish and now he wanted her to turn her backs on those she was meant to protect? "If I want to run and let others die to protect those I love. You can't expect me to do that."

"I can if I want you to be safe," Charlie broke in, looking up from his hands. "I can want you to be safe and if being safe means that you have to leave, well I would be okay with that." Amy leaned back staring at the wizard, her eyes filling with tears.

"Really?" she breathed, shaking her head a bit. "You would be okay with that? You would be okay with me simply gathering up all of my things and returning to America, just up and leaving, because I wouldn't be okay with that. I wouldn't be okay with turning my back one everyone and I sure as hell wouldn't be alright leaving you, but if you're okay with that…" the witch trailed off as she searched Charlie's face. "Maybe you don't love me as much as I do you."

The wizard's jaw clenched and his eyes blazed with fire. "I want you to do this because I love you so much," he argued, his voice thick. "I'm not saying it has to be today or tomorrow, but someday soon things are going to go from bad to worse and when it does, I don't want you stuck in the middle of it all. I want you to be safe because I don't think I could imagine my life without you. Not now, not ever. I love you too much to let anything happen to you, and while it may hurt me to let you go, even for a little while, it would be alright as long as you're safe and unharmed."

"But it might not be only for a little while," Amy hissed, standing up abruptly. "You could die. I could die, and in all honesty, I would rather die fighting than hiding like a coward." Charlie stood up as well, the couple inches away from each other, and he stared down at the witch, his chest moving with his rapid breaths.

"And I would rather die knowing you're safe and sound," he shot back, "which is why you should go back. Not at this very moment but eventually. When things get bad."

"Things are already bad!" Amy cried, throwing her hands up into the air. "Things are bad now!"

"Which is exactly why I've been thinking about this for days on end," Charlie said in irritation. "This is our only choice if you want to be safe."

"Well, maybe I would rather fight than be safe," Amy sneered, crossing her arms over her chest. "And you've got two things wrong. This isn't the only choice and this isn't _our _decision, it's mine."

"Amy," Charlie began, his forehead crinkled together in aggravation, "I really-"

"No," Amy cut in forcefully. "I'm done talking about this." Her inflection was so strong that Charlie said nothing else and silence fell awkwardly over the couple. This was their first real argument, the first time that they had really been frustrated and angry with the other, and neither was sure what to do now. Amy's blood was boiling under her skin and Charlie had a red flush that was creeping up his neck. The only sound that interrupted the quiet was the ticking of Amy's clock and the noises from the street below.

"I think," Amy began softly after several moments, and Charlie looked down at her tentatively. "I think you should go now." She looked up at Charlie through her bangs and noted the sad expression in his eyes. "Your Mom's expecting you." Another moment of silence passed before Charlie hesitantly reached out to touch the witch. He stopped, hurt flooding through him when she jerked back, tightening her grip around her waist. She looked up at him, biting her lip anxiously. "You should go now," she repeated.

Charlie allowed his hand to fall back to his side and he carefully stepped away from the witch and around the table. Amy all of a sudden looked incredibly tired and worn out, and she ran a hand raggedly through her hair.

"Are…" Charlie paused before swallowing. "Are you coming?" Amy looked at him hesitantly before down at her feet and shaking her head, her curls falling over her shoulder to cover her face.

"I don't really think that's the best idea," she murmured softly, and Charlie nodded jerkily before turning quickly on his heel and disappearing with a crack. Quiet fell over the witch's apartment again and she slowly lowered herself back onto the couch, her fingers turning white as she clutched herself tightly, and tears began to spill over her eyes and onto her cheeks.

'_He wants me to leave,'_ she though desperately. '_He wants me to run, to be a coward… why?' _

'_Because he loves you,' _a small part of her mind (that sounded suspiciously like Georgie) whispered, but the witch shook her head and rubbed at her eyes.

'_He wants me to leave.'_

_..._

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><p><strong><em>AN:<em>**Dun dun duhhhhhh... woah, where did that come from? Oh right! The brown line train! Funsies! So brief overview: Moore is a jerk and wouldn't ever admit he beat up by someone a tad bit shorter than him. Nor would he admit that he got turned down by our (my?) favorite Charms teacher. Walden... completely made him up. It never says in the book who the manager of Flourish and Blotts is so I just looked up a wizard name. I'm pretty sure Ollivander goes missing before Harry arrives at the Burrow (which he's at the Burrow in chapter 44 I think) but for the sake of this story just go with it. And finally... CHARLIE? WHAT ARE YOU THINKING? Amy can protect herself! Hell, she would kick yo' butt in a duel, but still... thanks for being her knight with red hair? Our favorite couple is not broken up but Amy's certainly going to be touchy about this America subject for awhile. She definitely gets why he wants her to go but at the same time, her love-infested mind just can't think of leaving Charlie (or anyone else for that matter) to fight this war alone. She loves him too much to let him go, and he loves her too much to see her get hurt. Simple as that, but love does conquer all... right?

You tell me. I really want to know what you guys thought about this chapter so review or PM me please!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	47. Chapter 46

**AN:** Here you go! It's late and I'm doing farm/berry picking stuff tomorrow so I need some sleep. I hope you all enjoy it and...yeah...

**Dedication:** Happy Birthday Derek!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing you recognize.

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><p>If there was one thing Charlie learned at a young age, right around the time the Twins hit the Terrible Twos (which was <em>four<em> times worse than any of the others), it was that Fred and George would very likely be the death of him one day. It started off as little things; leaving toys on the stairs, jumping out to scare him at the top of the staircase, tackling him into the water of a nearby pond while he was trapped in the confines of a Christmas sweater. Little things, you know? But the real cherry topper was when they just _had _to point out that Charlie had arrived to the Burrow without Amy. If there was ever a moment Charlie thought he may die an early, premature death, it was then.

The wizard had appeared forlornly outside the Burrow with a crack. He sighed grumpily and ruffled his hair in a ragged fashion. He was only just realizing that he should have waited to say anything to Amy because he would now need to deal with his mother and she was bound to be wrathful after discovering he had royally pissed Amy off. Sighing and preparing himself for the worst, the wizard climbed up the steps to the house and quietly let himself in. Already, he could hear the rambunctious sounds of his siblings and their friends. He knew that Hermione and Harry were staying at the Burrow that summer but he wasn't sure if there would be anyone else outside the Weasley family, although those two were practically family anyway (if only Ron would stop being a git).

Slowly, Charlie trudged his way to the kitchen where he could hear pots and pans clanging together and people talking merrily. The wizard carefully poked his head into the room which was stuffed with Weasleys and guests alike. He contemplated for a moment about Apparating home (to his apartment, of course. Amy was still likely to be furious with him) and sending his mother a note saying that he and Amy were sick or working late or something of the sort, but his mother turned around at the exact moment he did. The second she caught sight of him though, any hopes he had of leaving unnoticed were gone.

"Charlie dear!" Molly greeted cheerfully, wiping her hands on the apron around her waist. Charlie grimaced a bit as everyone turned to look at him, and he grudgingly stepped into the room as Molly moved around the table to hug her second oldest. Charlie stood there dutifully while his mother admonished him on his apparent poor eating habits and got not visiting more. He thought, for just one blissful moment, that maybe, just _maybe_, his mother may not notice Amy wasn't with him, and as Molly began to lead him into a seat, Charlie felt relief wash over him. He _would_ live another day.

Or not.

"Where's the professor?" the Twins asked, their eyes filled with the usual mischief. "We've got some questions for her."

Molly turned to look at them, narrowing her eye at the grinning boys. "And what about?" she demanded as Charlie looked warily from his mother to his brothers. The Twins shrugged nonchalantly.

"Charms for a few of our products," Fred said, picking aimlessly at his shirt in an attempt to look innocent.

George continued and in comparison to his Twin's, his face was the epitome of evil. "And whether or not Chuckie here is good in bed-"

"Amy had to work," Charlie broke in abruptly, his neck and face quickly growing red. Molly's glare at the Twins dissolved, and her eyebrows crinkled together curiously as she carefully adjusted a napkin at the set table. He glanced around the table to see if anyone would be able to call his bluff, but no one other than his mother and the Twins were paying him any attention.

"Really?" she asked inquisitively. "She sent me a letter saying that she was able to get off work for tonight." She pointed dismissively at a letter near the sink. Charlie squinted at it and he felt dread settle into his stomach as he quickly tried to come up with a different excuse.

"I mean, well, she-uh- I meant that she's-uh- she's sick," Charlie stammered, swallowing deeply as he looked warily from side to side. The Twins seemed to accept this answer, shrugging and taking their seats. They immediately dug into the meal before them, but Molly remained standing behind her chair, looking curiously at her son. She narrowed her eyes a bit as Charlie shifted anxiously in his seat, looking no one in the eye.

Charlie glanced up momentarily and upon catching his mother's eye, he looked down again and hastily began to shovel food onto his plate as well.

"Charles Marius Weasley," Molly started, her eyes widening horribly. Her voice was harsh and Charlie froze mid-way through serving himself as everyone else at the table froze as well. Wide eyes turned to stare at Charlie whose eyes were wide as he slowly turned to look at his mother, his heart pounding in his chest. "What did you do?" Her voice was low as she leaned across her chair to glare at him and Charlie tugged nervously at his shirt collar.

"W-What do you mean, Mum?" he asked, his voice shaking as he noted that everyone was indeed staring curiously at the two. Why couldn't she just accept the fact that Amy was sick? Did the entire family really have to know that he and Amy had thought and that she would rather stay home alone than have to deal with him?

"I mean that I want you to tell me what you did because Amy is most definitely not sick and you are most definitely lying to me," Molly told him as she raised her eyebrows at him and everyone else at the table raised their eyebrows as well. "So what did you do?"

"What makes you think I'm lying?" Charlie shot back, searching for anyway to escape from this conversation. He really did not want to talk to his Mum about this and had actually hoped that he would be able to fix things between him and Amy before his mother did find out. It didn't help that his entire family as well as Ron's friends were judging him silently.

"I'm your mother, Charlie," Molly reminded him, sitting down and beginning to serve herself. "I know everything when it comes to you all." She gestured dismissively to the rest of the table before picking up her fork and pointing it at her son. "Now tell me before I go ask Amy what you did myself."

Charlie groaned, knowing that he had backed himself into a hard place between his easily-infuriated mother and the quick tempered, Charm happy Amy. He rubbed a hand through his hair in frustration and took a deep breath. He peeked over at the rest of the table who were looking at him expectantly before back at his mother.

"Can we talk about this later please?" Molly narrowed her eyes at him dangerously and he expected her to tell him no and that they would talk about it right then and there so as to humiliate him for whatever he had done to the witch she cared so much about, but instead Molly stabbed a piece of chicken and pulled it onto her plate. She looked away from Charlie and down the table. Immediately, everyone looked down at the plates or began a conversation with their neighbors.

"And how was your day, Arthur?"

Charlie would have heaved a sigh of relief but he knew that all he had done was post-pone his death for a few hours.

…..

_SMACK_

"Mum!" Charlie cried, rubbing the back of his now stinging head. Molly merely glared at him, shaking her head in disappointment. "It's bad enough that Amy's upset with me, I don't need an achy head to go along with it."

"Well, if you weren't such a numpty I wouldn't have to smack you, now would I?" Molly asked. She shook her head and methodically stirred a spoon through her tea mug.

"Wait, so I'm a numpty because I am concerned about what may happen to someone I care about?" Charlie demanded, his eyebrows furrowed together. He and his Mum were alone in the kitchen as the others had dispersed to go and enjoy the summer night while Molly pumped all of the details out of Charlie as she could. He had been hesitant at first, not exactly wanting his Mum to know so many details about his love life, but at the same time he knew that she would be able to give him the best advice possible. He also knew that he may tear him to pieces and then spit on those pieces but she would be the one who would most understand what was going on in his head.

"No, you're a numpty because you don't understand that Amy is a big girl and can take care of herself," Molly said, rolling her eyes at her son. Charlie looked at her in disbelief.

"So, it's wrong for me to want to protect her?" he thundered. "It's wrong for me to want her to be safe and happy even if it means that I have to give her up. She's too headstrong for her own good and she doesn't understand that there are people out here who care about her and don't want to see her get hurt. She doesn't understand that she can't simply think about herself and her wants. She has figure out that there is so much going on and so much out there that can hurt her, kill her even, and I love her too much to see that happen.

"She thinks that she can do all this. That she can save the world and still have everything that she has now but we all have to make sacrifices and this is a sacrifice I am making for her," Charlie continued, running a hand through his hair. "It's not safe for her here and it would be better for everyone if she went back to her parents."

Molly sighed softly, watching her son's despondent eyes as she took a long sip of her tea. She set the cup back down on the table and traced the scratched and worn wood.

"Charlie Weasley," the witch began, shaking her head a bit. "You are too chivalrous for your own good." The wizard looked up and opened his mouth as though he was about to protest but Molly merely held up a hand and he shut his mouth with a click. "I'm not saying that it's a bad thing, just that you are so willing to do anything for someone you love that you forget about your own happiness."

"But Mum," Charlie said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "She's my happiness."

Silence fell over the mother and son, and Molly could practically fell her heart swell with joy and pride at her son's words. Charlie was always the permanently happy child, a smile on his face and a story to tell, yet at the same time he was the one completely willing to try anything (hence his reasoning for the dragons and Romania) and his heart was just a tad too large for his own good. Any and every stranded animal he found in his youth was given a new home in his room, no matter their size and he would never admit it, but he cried every time one of his beasts passed onto the next life, and she now understood that Amy, though a stubborn witch, was the one thing that could get Charlie just as ruffled and frazzled as he once had over his beasties.

"If she's your happiness then why let her leave you?" Molly asked. "Why make yourself unhappy?"

Charlie shook his head as he looked at his Mum. "Because I would rather she be safe than for me to lose her forever."

"Who says you're going to lose her?" Molly asked, squinting curiously at her son. Charlie rolled his eyes a bit and looked at his Mum in disbelief.

"Mum," he began as though talking to a child. "There's a war coming, and Amy's already vying up to fight. I've seen her fight before and she's not one to think rationally in the heat of battle. She acts first and thinks later, even if it means dying."

"Then that's her choice," Molly reminded him. "And you can't stop her from fighting, can you?"

"If she would listen to me than yes!" Charlie cried as he threw his hands into the air. "If she would just try to understand what I'm trying to tell her, that I'm trying to protect her, than I could stop her." He paused, running his finger over the rim of his tea cup. "I could save her from whatever horrors await us."

"Charlie," Molly said softly. "You and I both know that Amy understands what you're trying to do. She's a smart girl and it isn't as though she thinks you think she's incapable of fighting. Amy just can't imagine abandoning everyone that she knows simply to save herself. It's not in her nature. That girl is all about love and she's not going to back away when her loved ones are threatened. At least, not without a fight.

"Don't you remember how she was after the Third Task? You saw how she in the hospital wing, yes?" Charlie nodded to indicate that he did in fact remember seeing the teacher lying in bed with pale skin and mussed-up curls. "Well, she wasn't one to sit around and do nothing then so what made you think anything has changed since?"

"Everything!" Charlie cried, pulling at his hair in frustration. "Everything is different now than it was last year, you know that Mum."

Molly nodded slowly before reaching across the knobbed wood of the table to place a gentle, warm hand on his. "But has she?"

Charlie paused so that he could contemplate his mother's words. Of course, Charlie could remember the first time he met her. He remembered being incredibly surprised to have a young witch, one who was so very near to his own age, to show him the grounds for the Tournament. It didn't hurt that she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, even more than the Antipodean Opaleye he had seen just days after starting at the range in Romania. He remembered quite clearly how much sass Amy had given them about letting _kids_ fight dragons and how she had been much like a mother hen throughout the First Task, watching each Champion as though they were someone of great importance to her. He could practically taste the envy in his throat as he thought about Karkaroff's gnarled hands gripping her waist tightly, but even more so, he thought about just how breathtaking she had been in her Yule Ball dress. He remembered every time she had snarled at someone, striking fear into the hearts and how if she hadn't risked her life for the Order, she may not have gathered the courage to visit him at his apartment that snowy night. Her fight and sardonic, sarcastic comments were what had attracted him in the first place, that and the way she was able to find some sort of good in just about everyone. She may sass and taunt anyone that she disliked, but she really did believe everyone was capable of love and that everyone deserved the same protection and chance in life.

And, most importantly to him, Amy had shown that he was capable of so much love, and he knew he would do anything for her.

Charlie groaned suddenly, dropping his head onto the table with a thud.

"I'm such a git," he moaned. "What have I done?" Molly chuckled and gathered up their mugs of cooled tea. She stood and placed them in the sudsy sink before turning to pat Charlie consolingly on the back.

"I don't think the question is what you've done," Molly said softly, smiling down at her son, who turned his head so one blue eye peered up at her. "But what you're going to do. Just because you were a git doesn't mean that all of her love for you is gone."

Charlie looked up hopefully with solemn puppy dog eyes. His forehead crinkled together as his mother began to unwrap her apron from around her waist and fold it neatly.

"What am I going to do now?"

Molly smirked at him as she set the now folded apron down next to the soapy sink. "You grovel. You tell her that you were only thinking about keeping her safe, that you couldn't live without her. You tell her how much you love her and then you grovel and hope for the best. She loves you and you love her, so it shouldn't be too difficult." She answered before settling back into the other seat across from him so she could tell her son what exactly to do so he could make things better with Amy without messing up too horribly. After all, she was looking forward to having that witch as part of her family.

…..

Charlie raised his hand hesitantly and paused just as his hand was at eye level. He sighed, letting his head fall forward a bit so that it rested on the cool wood of the door. It had taken him almost four days to gather up the courage to follow his mother's directions on how to make things up to Amy. Four days of pacing back and forth in his apartment, practically tearing his hair out and grumbling to himself like a mad man. Four days of having to deal with Adam and his cronies without being able to go home afterwards to his witch. Four days of not waking up beside her, of not being able to kiss her, without being able to speak or look at her. Four of the longest days of his life just so he could come and chicken out before apologizing. Of course, he didn't think that he should apologize, not really. At least, he didn't think he should apologize for trying to protect her, because he truly did think that her leaving the country was the one thing to ensure her safety. However, he realized he had gone about this in the worst way possible and that he was wrong in assuming that she should have to listen to him. He was her boyfriend, but even if he did really, truly love her, that still didn't give him the right to order her about. He understood that now, and he hoped that he would be able to convince Amy that he was as sorry as he felt.

Gathering up his Gryffindor courage, the wizard rapped on the door several times. Normally, he would have simply Apparated into the witch's apartment, but he didn't really think Amy would appreciate that at the moment. So instead, he waited patiently on his side of the door for his girlfriend to answer the door. He didn't have to wait long for he soon heard shuffling from the other side of the apartment door and Amy opened the door swiftly. It was the first time Charlie had seen her in…well, in _too _long, and even though she was dressed in a ratty pair of shorts and her hair was loose and tumbling just about everywhere, he felt his heart speed up and a flush start at the base of his neck.

She froze abruptly at the sight of him standing rather sheepishly in her doorway, and she pressed her lips together tightly. A moment of silence passed between the two before she opened the door a little further, gesturing for him to come in. Charlie smiled hesitantly at the witch before shuffling into the room, careful so that he didn't touch her. Amy shut the door behind him before following him into her apartment. She self-consciously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as Charlie stopped, turning to look around the living room. The start of the new school term was approached which was quite evident from the books and papers scattered across the floor and taped up on the walls. She was obviously trying to prepare herself and her students for whatever the year may throw at them. The witch hadn't had much contact with the other teachers except for a letter from Professor Dumbledore about a change in staffing. It didn't have much to relevance with the witch so she had thrown it aside and focused her attention to the on her lesson plans and future class assignments.

Slowly, Charlie turned away from the strewn papers and books to look at Amy, who had taken up a spot against the wall, her hands tucked across her chest. Her glasses were practically hidden in her hair as she had pushed them to the top of her head and there were dark circles under her eyes as though she hadn't slept in days. The wizard hoped that the lack of sleep hadn't been because of him, and guilt ran through him at the thought.

The silence between them was awkward, and the couple knew it. Neither one, however, knew what to say. They had never really argued, at least not like this, and they weren't entirely sure how keen the other one was to bringing up the touchy subject. Amy had practically kicked him out of her apartment the night of the argument and neither had made the attempt to try and talk to each other since. Charlie was convinced he wouldn't have even been there if it weren't for the wrath of his mother, and he knew that if the next time he saw her they hadn't made up, they probably would _never _be able to make up because his Mum would have killed him.

"I was wrong," Charlie finally admitted. His voice was loud and deep in the silence of the apartment, and Amy looked away from the floor and up at him, gnawing on her lip in, what the wizard thought was, the most adorable way. He realized with a pang that he really had missed the witch the past couple of days, and it was that thought of realization that had Charlie moving closer to the witch until there were only a few feet between them. "I was so completely wrong, and I'm so incredibly sorry." His voice trailed off a bit as he took another step closer to her, and her grip on her arms tightened as she forced herself not to jump him because of the adorably sincere look he had on his face.

"And, you also wouldn't believe just how much I regret thinking I could force you to abandon your home," Charlie continued, running a hand tiredly over his forehead. "It's a miracle Mum didn't rip me a new one and it was almost as though she was going to disown me and take you in as her child instead." Amy snorted a bit at this, and Charlie took this as a good sign and plowed on. "I regret trying to force the plan on you, and you were right to be mad at me." He trailed off quietly, looking down at his hands before back at her, with a small gleam in his eyes.

"But what I regret the most," he whispered, hating himself for beginning to sound so girly and mushy, "is that I had to go home to a cold bed that night and every night since, and yet everything in my apartment smelled teasingly of you."

He looked up at her, gnawing on his lip a bit and Amy swallowed harshly at the look in his eyes, feeling her heart speed up a bit and her arms yearn for his body against hers. Internally, she admonished herself. He had been wrong to think she would obediently follow his order, that she would be willing to throw everything they had simply to protect herself, but at the same time, she understood that she too would want him safe, that she too couldn't live without him. These past days had been just as bad for him as it had been for her. In an attempt to occupy her thoughts, she had cleaned out her drawers only to find a stash of Charlie's shirts under her own. Immediately, the scent that was entirely Charlie had washed over her and she didn't move from her tiny cocoon of Charlie shirts for a while. So while she desperately wanted to jump the man and snog him senseless (Merlin, she was turning British) she felt that she had to uphold her integrity at least for a little while longer.

He continued without noticing the waging war beneath her skin. "It was like every time I came home the world was trying to remind me just how much of a jerk I was to you, and believe me, it worked. All I could see or think about was how angry you were with me, but at the same time all I could think about was how absolutely beautiful you looked with that rage in your eyes and how these past few days have been torture because I wasn't able to be near you, to touch you, to kiss you. So, I'm sorry, Amy. You were right."

Amy's breath hitched in her throat as Charlie's spiel finally came to a stop. She had never had anyone be that incredibly honest with her, had never had someone tell her that a mere four days apart had been a torture in its own form. She hadn't realized just how much she had missed Charlie either, but now that she had she had no other desire than to jump him and drag him back to her bedroom. Unfortunately, she knew she couldn't give in that easily to the (handsome) wizard.

She stepped back to place some distance between them for she didn't want the wizard to see just how affected she was by him simply being there with her, but he seemed to note the shift in the atmosphere and the softening of her eyes as she looked at him. He cocked his head a bit before recognizing the look in her eyes and he felt himself begin to smile faintly at the witch, thinking that she may just forgive him. Amy felt her resolve start to crumble at the hopeful yet despondent look that was gleaming out of Charlie's eyes and her heart beat even more quickly.

"Listen," Amy said, pointing her finger accusingly at the wizard. Charlie noted the slight tremor in her finger and his face began to break out into a smile. "Just because I'm saying this doesn't mean you're forgiven. It was wrong of you to assume that you could try and make such a huge decision about my life, and…" The witch trailed off as Charlie stepped closer to her. His hand trailed up and down her arm and Amy shuddered before continuing. "I'm a big girl and I don't need you to come up with elaborate plans to protect me." Charlie let his hand graze its way up to her face and she subconsciously let herself lean into his touch, her eyes fluttering but remaining open. "If-If you so much as think of mentioning me returning to America again, I swear I'll-" Amy gasped as Charlie leaned down to place teasing kisses up and down the column of her neck, and she felt her knees weaken and shake beneath her. "-I'll Avada you myself."

Charlie hummed against her throat and she knew that he wasn't really listening to her. She raised her hand to his face and lifted his head so he was looking her in the eye and she felt her insides clench and squirm as his eyes were a mix of love and lust.

"I mean it, buddy," Amy said, looking at him seriously. She tried her hardest to stop herself from squirming under his intense gaze. Charlie merely smiled down at the witch and squeezed her arms tightly.

"I love you," he whispered, tucking a curl behind her ear softly before allowing his fingers to trace her jawline. Amy smirked.

"Shut up and kiss me," the witch responded, pulling at the ends of Charlie's hair so that his lips met hers forcefully. Charlie groaned, the sound deep in his throat as his hands fell from her face and to her hips. He pulled her flushed against him, and Amy allowed herself to melt into his arms, turning her head and opening her mouth to deepen the kiss.

Four days was much too long to go without this, and it was mistake neither was likely to make again. At least, not anytime soon.

…..

Unfortunately, the couple's time together after the disagreement was short-lived. Amy had to return to Hogwarts before the first day of term to ready her office and classroom and because of this, the witch and her wizard only had a few days together. In between balancing their jobs and all the extra work the teacher had to do, Amy and Charlie spent the majority of their time either strolling through miscellaneous parts of Wizarding London or wrapped up in each other's arms in their apartments. Amy never did go to the Burrow for her last summer dinner but she figured that she would rather have time alone with Charlie where the couple could actually be themselves than sitting awkwardly around a table while Molly cooed over them.

So, instead of a Molly Weasley original dinner that was sure to be delicious, Charlie bit his tongue and prepared himself for the cooking of his witch who, despite being very good at charms and taking people down with fiery words, was a terrible, _terrible_ cook. She had tried for years to find something that she was able to make without overseasoning or underseasoning or burning to a crisp, but so far… well, it seemed like she sucked at it all. Charlie had tried to convince her to let him cook but she was determined that this time she wouldn't fail…

They ended up ordering food from a nearby Muggle restaurant.

After paying the delivery man, Amy crawled back into Charlie's arms, sighing as his hands gripped her waist. The school term was right around the corner and the witch was already dreading leaving her wizard again. She had lost four days with him and she wasn't looking forward to losing over a hundred more with the new semester ahead of them.

"You know I'm still sorry," Charlie whispered in her ear and Amy rolled her eyes. The wizard had continued to apologize to her every day, and even though she had forgiven him (mostly), she didn't mind hearing his pitiful inflection or his breath against her neck and ear. She also didn't mind the other ways he had made things up to her, and the couple had spent much of their time locked away in one of their bedrooms.

"I know," she whispered back, turning her head so that she could nuzzle his throat a bit. "But I like hearing you say it." Charlie laughed a bit, before turning them so that Amy was beneath him as he hovered over her, his hands braced on either side of her head. She smiled blindingly up at him as he leaned down towards her, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

"I'm sorry." Her nose. "I'm sorry." Her lips. "I'm sorry." Her jawline. "I'm sorry." Her throat. "I'm sorry." Collar bone. Shoulder. He continued down until his lips grazed the top of her shirt and she made a noise, a deep groan in her throat and she pulled him back up.

"Well, you're certainly getting there," she said before pulling Charlie's smiling lips down onto hers.

…..

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>So, Molly talked a bit of sense into Charlie which is good, and yes, Amy is going to hold this over his head as long as she can, because she kind of loves grovel-y Charlie. Don't forget to tell me what you thought!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	48. Chapter 47

**AN: **Bam? Maybe... Anyway, here it is, hope you enjoy... I'm getting tired of writing author's notes to tell you the truth... but...eh... here you go.

**Dedication: **To my reviewers! I haven't been getting many reviews lately, so for anyone who reviewed my last chapter, thank you very much! I really do appreciate it, and it certainly brightens my day to read them.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing you recognize.

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><p>Amy sighed and looked down at her watch once more. Barely two minutes had passed since she had last looked at her watch and the witch did her best to hold her groan in her throat. She looked wistfully over her shoulder at the castle looming in the distance and she wished once more that she wasn't as good at charms as she was. She had been standing behind the gates to Hogwarts for almost thirty minutes now, waiting (very much impatiently) for the students to arrive from the station.<p>

The witch had arrived at Hogwarts several days earlier so as to organize her classroom a bit and finish her lesson plans. As expected, Amy and Charlie never made their way over to the Burrow for one last summer dinner, but the couple knew that there would always be the holidays or even the next summer. Or at least, they hoped so.

The day Amy had left, Charlie had been leaving for a trip to Romania as well. He would be gone for a few months on official Order business. The cover story was that he needed to check up on some old reservation business as well as ensure that the care of the dragons was going according to regulation. The actual work he was doing for the Ministry would take a week at most, while the real meaning behind this trip was to look into Death Eater activity that had been reported in the area. Since Charlie was the leading man on all things dragon and Romanian, he had been the ideal wizard for the job, and he wasn't about to say no to helping the Order. He really was no use to the Order at the Ministry since his department wasn't on the need-to-know basis for Dark Magic activity. Plus, it also meant that he would be free of Adam for a while and seeing as Charlie was still furious with him about the whole bar incident with Amy, it was probably for Adam's own good that he had not been elected to go on the trip to the reservation.

Amy had been a little unsure about this trip and she wasn't afraid to tell the wizard this either.

"_Don't you remember what happened the last time someone went on a mission for the order?"_ _she had asked him, staring imploringly at him from her seat at the kitchen island. Charlie looked over his shoulder from his station at the oven with a playful intent look on his face._

"_I gathered up the courage to tell you I love you, duh," he reminded her, a smirk tugging at his lips. Amy rolled her eyes and glared at him a bit._

"_Sirius died," Amy corrected blandly, not fully appreciating his joke. "And the time before that, with Hagrid?"_

"_Uh… Hagrid found his brother?" Charlie knew what she was talking about but he wasn't just going to admit that she was right. He also knew that it was dangerous, but every mission was dangerous. It was worth it though, because each step, no matter how dangerous it was, was another step towards defeating Voldemort and his followers, as well as saving the whole freakin' world. _

"_Charlie," Amy groaned. "He came back completely covered in bruises. Bruises that did go away for months. His brother could have _killed_ him." _

"_Could have are the keywords in that sentence," the wizard said in a know-it-all attitude and Amy glared fiercely at the back of his head, wishing it would set on fire._

"_Yeah, well what about the mission that Remus, Tonks and I went on?" Amy demanded, slapping her hand on the table. "The one where I was chased by Death Eaters into a forest and Crucio'd?" Through her fiery eyes, she could see Charlie's shoulders tense at her words. "What good came from that? I was torn up physically and mentally for weeks, not to mention that we _failed _our mission. So what good came from that?"_

"_Isn't that the night you came here?" Charlie asked softly, carefully stirring the bubbling food within one of the pots. Amy blinked at him, watching the muscles in his arms and shoulders as he moved from one pot to the next. "The night that we realized we were stupid to have run from each other? Stupid to hide from our feelings? Isn't that the night you kissed me?"_

_Silence fell over the two for a moment as Amy tried to gather her thoughts. "Well, I might have been stupid then but I'm not being stupid now."_

_Charlie sighed quietly, shutting his eyes and rubbing a tired hand over his forehead. Grabbing his wand from off the counter, he waved his wand towards the bubbling pots on the stove, turning down the fire, before moving so that he was standing across from the witch._

"_Amy," he said softly, reaching across the island to grip her hands in his. She looked down at their intertwined fingers before up into his blue eyes meekly. "It's just for a few months, so I'll be back in time for the holidays, not to worry. And in the meantime, I promise nothing is going to hurt me, or you for that matter." Amy cocked her head a bit and took a soft breath._

"_You can't be sure of that," she told him, her eyes wide. Charlie merely smiled a bit._

"_But I can promise that I'll do everything in my power to come home," he replied, gripping her hand tighter in his hand to show her just how much he meant those words. "Unharmed." Her eyes roamed over his face and she bit the inside of her lip before nodding slowly._

"_Fine," she agreed. "But I swear, if you come back with so much of a _scratch-"

"_I'll run, screaming for the hills," Charlie assured her, and Amy couldn't help but smile, before reaching across the table and grabbing his shirt. With the cloth firmly in her grasp, she pulled him until he was leaning almost all the way across the island, his lips just a breath away._

"_You better," she whispered, before pressing her lips tightly to his. Charlie smirked a bit as his hand moved to trail the side of her face, his fingers just barely ghosting over the soft flesh of her cheek. They pulled away a bit, but before Amy could pull Charlie back to her, the wizard froze, sniffing the air a bit. Amy looked at him curiously as his eyes grew wide, and he swore turning back to the pots on the stove which were emitting a dark smoke. _

_Amy watched with wide eyes as he swatted at the smoking pans, swearing the entire time at their ruined dinner, before she finally smirked a bit._

"_I thought you were a good cook?"_

"_I'm still better than you," Charlie shot back as he carefully carried the burnt pans to the sink where they could soak in their charred dreariness. Amy's eyebrows furrowed together as she thought about this before she shrugged and nodded her head. Smiling at the wizard who was still swearing over the ruined meal, she looked around the kitchen for whatever she could find, eventually pulling out a loaf of bread, cheeses, and meats._

"_Want a sandwich?" she asked, holding the supplies up. Charlie slumped against the sink, his head low, before he grudgingly turned to look at the witch who smiled innocently at him._

"_Only if I make it, because I don't think you can even make a sandwich without something going wrong," Charlie answered, grabbing the food from her hands and setting it down a bit farther down the island from her. Amy looked at him, an affronted look on her face before she shrugged._

"_Fair enough."_

Behind her in the bushes, the witch could hear Filch bustling around as he gathered together his Dark-Object detectors, and she rolled her eyes at the obvious glee that he was taking from this assignment. She would much preferred to be up in the safe, warm castle and away from the dark, dreariness of the night, but Professor Dumbledore had insisted that a faculty member be at the gates during the students' arrival and seeing as Amy was the best in the school at Charms (hence the teaching position) he had kindly asked her to do him a favor. It's not like she could say no after all. One can't say no to him. He's Albus Dumbledore after all.

Amy spared the caretaker behind her no look for out of the shadows and dreariness of the night, the witch could hear the trotting and clanging as the carriages approached the gates. As the large forms of the carriages loomed out of the dark, Amy pulled out her wand and uncast the protective spells over the gates. The iron bars swung open as the first buggy made its way onto the grounds, and as the carriage passed her, the witch could clearly see the bright faces of the students within. Several students waved at her as they went passed and she smiled and waved in return. As more and more carriages made their way onto the grounds, students began to depart from their carriages, and Amy moved so that she was standing before the ever-growing horde of students.

"Welcome back!" Amy greeted loudly, hoping that her voice would carry but knowing that she would likely need to repeat her words several times before the night was up. "I'm not exactly one for long, drawn out speeches, so I'll try and get through this quickly. As a safety measure, Professor Dumbledore has requested that all students' belongings be searched upon arrival so as to ensure that no Dark objects are brought into the castle. As you drop off your belongings for Mr. Filch to inspect-" Several students groaned as the caretaker smiled lecherously at them, "-you will also leave your name with me so that the school can be sure everyone who is supposed to be here is." Amy stepped aside now, pulling out a long piece of parchment and a quill as the first of the students began to place their bags by Filch before stepping up to the Charms teacher.

Everything went rather smoothly and much quicker than the witch had expected, and it wasn't long before the crowd of students began to thin out as the teens made their way to the castle in the distance. The witch tried to keep a smile on her face throughout the process but she suspected that her perky expression may have fallen into one of concern at certain times, particularly when Ron, Ginny, and Hermione went passed her, sans Harry. It was surprising to see them without the messy-haired boy, but what concerned her was that the bushy-haired witch looked equally as worried as she.

"So, you're telling me he just disappeared?" Hermione demanded, staring at Ginny with wide eyes. "Why would you let him simply walk away from you like that?"

"Well, it's not like I could tell him not to go!" the redhead argued, glaring at her friend. "I'm not his keeper or anything, and it's not like he would listen to me either!" The witch threw her bags down before placing her hands on her hips and turning to look at Hermione. "He's a big boy, I'm sure he can handle himself." Though the girl's voice was strong, Amy heard a slight tremor in her tone, and Hermione's still worried look didn't soothe the teacher's concerns either.

"Still did you see where he went?" Hermione asked, her voice practically pleading as she continued to look around the crowd of students for her friend. Ginny sighed and rolled her eyes.

"It's a little hard to see where someone's going when they're wearing an invisibility cloak, Hermione," Ginny reminded her. Ron snorted loudly before groaning as both Hermione and Ginny elbowed him in the side.

"What was that for?" the wizard demanded, rubbing his now sore stomach. "It was funny!"

"Your best friend being lost is _not_ funny, Ronald," Hermione hissed, her eyes narrowed into slits. "It's not funny at all." Ron rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to say something, but his words were lost as the trio made their way passed Amy and towards the castle.

The witch pursed her lips together as she too peered over the students, trying to see if she could find Harry somewhere in the mass of students, but to no avail. And as the crowd of students began to grow thinner and thinner, the witch grew worried. She could now plainly see every student left on the grounds and she was still unable to find Harry's messy hair in the group. She glanced down at her list again to make sure that his name had not been checked off, and finding that the square next to his name was still blank, she felt the nerves in her stomach tighten and her breath quicken a bit.

As the last student passed through the gates and left their baggage with Filch, Amy moved so that she was at the entrance of the grounds. She stared out into the misty grounds just outside the castle wall, and yet all she could see was trees and bushes and the train station far off in the distance. She swallowed and sighed as Filch yelled at her from behind her, and grudgingly, the witch pulled the gates closed. The iron creaked and squealed as the came together with a definitive click and she stepped back. She peered through the iron bars once more, hoping to see Harry. Alas, she saw no movement in the darkness. Hoping that he had simply walked passed her without leaving his name, the witch waved her wand several times, murmuring continuous charms under her breath as she concentrated on the iron gates.

After several minutes, Amy let her hands drop to her side, her shoulders slumped a bit as she turned to look back at the castle. Filch was still grumbling to himself as he began to drag the luggage up to the castle, but after everything he had done last year, Amy did nothing to help him. Plus, with her mind swirling around the mysterious location of Harry Potter, she doubted she would have been of much help anyway.

…..

It was only after the Sorting had ended and dinner had begun that Harry finally appeared in the castle. The second he had walked through the door (at an extremely rapid pace), Amy had straightened in her seat, watching the teen race to his seat with his fellow Gryffindors. The other members of the hall also noted his sudden appearance as well as the blood smeared across his face but no one really noticed Snape make his way into the Hall as well, a smug sneer on his face. Amy glanced between the teacher and student for several moments, watching as Snape made his way to his seat while also watching as Hermione cleaned the blood off of Harry's face with a spell.

Large movements at the other end of the table caught Amy's attention, and she looked across her coworkers to see Hagrid grinning and waving widely towards the Gryffindor table. She smiled a bit to see Harry smile back at the giant teacher before turning her attention back to her food. Relief washed over her to know that every student was safe and sound within the castle, even if they were a little worse for the wear.

From the middle of the table, Dumbledore stood suddenly, and the students in the hall grew silent as the Headmaster made his way to the podium before the front table. He opened his arms wide to reveal his blackened hand and his words of welcome were practically lost in the sea of whispers and gasps. Amy had reacted very similarly upon her arrival to the castle and upon seeing the Headmaster's dead-looking hand. It had been disturbing to say the least and while she did have many questions about it, Dumbledore was not revealing anything.

"Nothing to worry about," he assured the crowd of students as he allowed his hands to fall to his sides and cover his injury. "Now… to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you, and Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to say that there is a blanket ban on any joke items bought at the shop called Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes." Several groans broke out from the younger students while the older students merely shared sly looks among each other as though they knew something the staff did not.

"We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn-" From the other end of the table, a large-bellied wizard, whom Amy had met a few days earlier, stood and smiled widely at the students. The witch knew what was coming next and she prepared herself for the Headmaster's words. "- is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master."

"Potions?"

"_Potions?"_

Amy could hear every ounce of disbelief and confusion in the students' voices, and she pressed her lips together as Dumbledore continued as though no one had spoken out of turn.

"Professor Snape, meanwhile, will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"No!" Amy's head shot up and she looked across the sea of shocked students to find Harry sitting with a perfectly straight back and a furious look on his face. Her eyebrows furrowed together at his look. Sure, she knew that Harry practically hated Snape and she knew that the teacher was no fan of Harry's either, but it was a mere job position? What was the big deal if Snape was teaching one class over the other? Dumbledore obviously knew what he was doing and he wasn't going to simply give someone the job if he didn't trust them… right?

Only the Slytherins applauded as Snape raised his hand in acknowledgement. The other students were too absorbed in their side conversations to pay the slick haired man any attention, and it was not until Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly that their whispers died down a bit.

"Now as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength." Any whispers that had remained in the Hall, slipped out of the room as every student from what Amy could see were staring seriously up at their Headmaster, listening intently to every word that slipped from his wizened lips.

"I cannot emphasize strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe. The castle's magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer, we are protected in new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard scrupulously against carelessness on the part of any student or member of staff." Every faculty member sat up a little straighter at this, almost to show that they would not be the one to fail Dumbledore or the students.

"I urge you, therefore," Dumbledore continued, looking imploringly from table to table, student to student, "to abide by any security restrictions that your teachers might impose upon you, however irksome you might find them – in particular, the rule that you are not to be out of bed after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of the staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, within the utmost regard for your own and others' safety." There was a pause as Dumbledore's eyes went from serious to bright.

"But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well rested for your lessons tomorrow." Several students snorted at this, and Amy too smiled at those words. The witch knew the students couldn't care less about their upcoming classes. "Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!"

The students left in a mad rush, all of them desiring to escape the watchful eyes of their teachers, and to gain some time to spread whatever gossip they had accumulated over the summer and in the last few minutes of Dumbledore's speech.

…..

Amy stood at the door to her classroom, watching the mass of students make their way through the halls and to the next class. Her own room was already filling up with her N.E.W.T. students, but she was still waiting for the last few stragglers. There always were one or two, but today there seemed to be many (particularly of the Gryffindor kind). According to her roster, she was still waiting on Ron, Harry, and Neville. Hermione had already made her way into the classroom and had her belongings and books spread out before her, ready for her first N.E.W.T. Charms class.

It was only as the bell rang through the echoing halls that Neville, Harry, and Ron skidded around the corner and towards her room. She raised her eyebrows at them as they looked sheepishly down at her (she had noticed that many of her male students had surpassed her in height, which she wasn't particularly happy about).

"Sorry, Professor Wyman," Neville apologize. "Lost track of time."

Amy smiled a bit and shook her head before marking the boys off her attendance list and gesturing for them to enter the room.

"Well, since it's the first day," she said as she followed the boys into the classroom. The teens smiled softly at her and quickly took their seats. As Amy made her way towards the front of the room, she paused next to Neville's desk.

"Glad to see you in my class again," she told him sincerely. "Professor McGonagall told me you almost didn't take it, but I'm thrilled that you changed your mind. You really are a great Charms student." The teen blushed a bit and muttered a 'Thank you' under his breath, and the witch patted him a bit on the shoulder before moving towards the front of the room.

"Welcome back!" she greeted loudly, leaning against the front of her desk so that she had a full view of the students. "I hope you all had relaxing summer, but alas, it's time for school work again." Several students groaned comically and Amy smiled at them. "Don't worry, it shouldn't be too bad." She paused and mulled over those thoughts. "Eh, that's not a promise." There were more groans though this time there was no joking tone to them, and Amy smiled and shook her head.

"Don't despair, young ones," Amy said reassuringly, "You've got me to show you the way through the next two years-" There was a whoop in the room, and Amy looked accusingly at Ron Weasley who merely smiled and shrugged, "-so hopefully, we'll survive this together."

"So, why don't we start this year out with something basic? Everyone please get out your textbooks," the witch ordered. There was a flurry of movement and Amy took this moment to make her way around the room to ensure that all the students were there and had their belongings. As she passed Hermione, Harry, and Ron's table, the redhead tugged on the pocket of her sweater and she paused to look at him, eyebrow raised.

"How are things with you and Charlie?" he asked, a sly grin on his face. Amy looked down at him, her lips pressed together to hide her blooming smile.

"Open your book, Mr. Weasley," she told him, staring down her nose at him before making her way to the front of the room once more.

'_And another year begins,' _Amy thought, before waving her wand at the board, charming the directions for the class to appear on the board in her messy cursive.

…..

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Right... nothing too crazy... a filler... Merlin, I hate filler chapters... Apologies if I seem off or something. My brother went off to college today so I'm still trying to get used to that feeling of there only being four of us in the house... whatever... Don't forget to review! I really do appreciate them!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	49. Chapter 48

**AN:** Ack... another filler unfortunately. Sorry all. I start school on Tuesday, so I thought I should post this before I have to start waking up early again. It's not amazing, but you do meet an old friend/classmate of Amy's which is nice, I suppose. I'll try and possibly get another chapter up before Tuesday, but I still haven't finished my summer homework (damn you American Lit and APUSH) so don't get your hopes too high up...

Also... I hope to see all of you on the train back to Hogwarts today! Don't forget, it leaves at 11 am! So don't forget to get back, because it's all that we love and all that we need!

**Dedication:** To everyone who's gonna have to suffer with me through school this year! Prepare yourself for Chemistry and APUSH comes our way...

**Disclaimer: **Carry on my wayward son, there'll be peace when I have officially gained all rights to Harry Potter. Unfortunately, the likelihood of this happening is slim to never gonna happen in a million-bajillion years. (And yes... I have been watching Supernatural and have become attached to my wayward sons (particularly the Jerk)).

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><p>As the weeks continued to pass by, the students and teachers quickly found themselves falling into the old school routine that each year had. Students who had once been eager about the upcoming year (the number of students like this was <em>very<em> limited) were beginning to understand that school really did suck. The younger students were realizing that their teachers were not going to go easy on them due to their young age, and the upperclassmen were also realizing that their old age held very few perks at Hogwarts. The sixth years especially seemed to be overwhelmed but the teachers passed this off as them simply getting used to N.E.W.T. coursework. Academically, this year was likely to be their hardest year because they had five years to build up to their O.W.L.s and once they grew used to their N.E.W.T. lessons they would (_could_) breeze through the rest of their Hogwarts career. If they studied of course, but since they are teenagers, they would much rather wallow in self-pity and complain than actually _try_. Or at least, that's what the teachers thought, and most students weren't doing much to prove them wrong.

Amy's sixth year N.E.W.T. class for example could be found moaning and groaning all across the castle about the Aguamenti Charm and nonverbal spells rather than, of course, actually practicing said spells. They obviously loved to make themselves suffer.

In all honesty, the year seemed to be heading in a rather boring direction, not the Amy was complaining of course. She would take a boring year over a dramatic, crazed-filled one any day. Yet, it wasn't completely boring. In between lessons and reprimanding mischievous, little first years, the witch was hard at work sending letters back and forth to American correspondents of hers for the Order. Professor Dumbledore had asked her, in between his now routine disappearances, to get back in touch with the witches and wizard on the list she had given the Order last year and explain what was happening in England, as well as what would be expected from them in the upcoming months.

Basically, it had been requested of all of them, many of whom were old classmates of Amy's or old coworkers, to keep an eye out for any suspicious activities in the American Wizarding World and to try and keep a cap and seal on all those who had been convicted of Dark Magic. They didn't need Voldemort gaining anymore followers than he already had after all. She had also made note in several letters that they best prepare themselves to be called into battle at a moment's notice. The witch explained that they need not fight if they didn't want to, but any and all help would be greatly appreciated, especially as things grew darker and more frightening in their World.

The only time the witch ever got to herself now was devoted to writing to Charlie, who was still hunting down wizards in Romania. While the red-head and is fellow undercover Order members had indeed found evidence of Dark Magic activities, they had not encountered any Death Eaters or anything of the sort, much to Charlie's chagrin and Amy's relief.

"_Our mission is to bring back Death Eaters or any other Dark Wizard so we can question them," _Charlie explained in one letter to the witch. "_And until we do that, I can't exactly come home. I swear you wouldn't believe the weather here. It's like it's still the middle of the summer. Not that I'm complaining seeing as I'm fond of the heat, I'm just saying that I'm starting to miss England's rainy-ness. And you of course. I'm always missing you."_

The witch was quick to tell him to hurry up and find those Death Eaters because she certainly missed him too.

One night, after finishing a particularly long, mushy letter to the wizard, Amy sighed and set her quill down next to the parchment. As she stretched her hand and back, she allowed her thoughts to drift back to just a year ago, and she thought about exactly how much had change. This time last year, Amy hadn't spoken to Charlie in weeks and had practically whipped herself every time he crossed her mind. A year ago, the very thought of him made her furious and despondent while at the same time made her hate herself for letting him escape and for being too cowardly to chase him. She wasn't exactly sure how she had lived her life before him, and Amy hoped she would never have to find out.

Shaking her head of these thoughts and praising Merlin that she was fortunate to have Charlie in her life (no matter the teases and taunt she got from Ron in class), the witch turned her attention back to the letter, wishing that the winter holidays would come sooner, because Charlie would certainly be home by then.

And, she was always missing him as of late.

…..

It was raining and night had fallen the day that Amy made her way off the castle grounds. The witch looked over her shoulder at the castle now looming behind her before pulling her coat more tightly around her as the rain seeped through her, chilling her to the bone. Her hands shook a bit and she shoved them into her pocket, fingering the piece of parchment within her coat. Several days earlier, the witch had received a letter from an old classmate of hers. Serena Litzgo, who had been a witch in the same year as Amy and another dear friend (as well as an awesome study-buddy), was going to be in the Scotland area and had wondered if Amy would be able to meet up with her one night. Serena was in fact one of the witches on the list Amy had given to the Order, and Amy had agreed to meet up with Serena figuring that by actually talking to her she would be able to help her better understand what the Order wanted from her. The two had agreed to meet up at the Hog's Head rather than the Three Broomsticks which was why Amy continued on her way passed the popular pub despite the shelter and warmth it offered from the rain.

October had just begun and with it came a sudden change in temperature accompanied by chilly winds and changing leaves. It didn't help that there weren't many sunny days to start with in England, and as Amy trudged down the path towards the tavern at the very end of the Hogsmeade street, she clenched her arms tight against her sides and opened and closed her hands to keep the blood circulating. Shakily, she wiped at a wet strand of hair on her forehead, wishing that she had worn a hood or had thought to bring an umbrella.

With a sigh of relief, the witch finally made her way to the door of the Hog's Head and she wrenched it open and stepped into the warmth of the small, dingy pub. Unlike the Three Broomsticks which was packed with people at all times of the day, the Hog's Head was only really busy at night which was why it took Amy several moments before she was able to spy the red-brown hair of her old classmate. Serena caught sight of her at about the same time as Amy caught sight of her, and she raised a hand in greeting, smiling widely before gesturing for Amy to join her.

As she moved her way through the crowd of rather stingy drinkers, the witch shrugged her coat off since the roaring fire and mass of people were causing her to become uncomfortably hot. Once she neared the table near the fire, Amy threw her jacket over the back of her chair and Serena stood to give her a hug over the table.

"Hey!" Amy greeted brightly, sliding into the seat across from Serena as the other witch did the same. "It's been awhile, hasn't it? How've you been?"

Serena shrugged a bit and tugged at a short strand of her hair. "I've been good," the witch said lightly, her smile quirked a bit in the corner. "Nothing exciting really. Nothing compared to your life I'm sure."

Amy laughed. "Oh yeah, teaching's super exciting, each day is like I'm living the dream." The witch across from her chuckled and shook her head.

"Ah, Amy," she sighed, taking a sip from her bottle of Butterbeer. "You haven't changed a bit."

"Excuse me," Amy protested, holding up a finger. "No glasses and I actually know how to match clothes and colors now." She paused as the bartender, Aberforth, dropped another bottle of Butterbeer at her table, and she smiled at the older man who merely grunted at her. Serena gave her a look as the man made his way back to the counter, and Amy shrugged. "He's old," she told her, lowering her voice as she did so. Serena rolled her eyes but chuckled nonetheless.

The two sat in silence for a few minutes before Amy peered over the neck of her bottle. "How're the Times doing?" After graduating from Salem, Serena had gotten a job as an assistant in the offices of the Charmed Times, the leading Wizarding newspaper of America. The witch, though quiet and rather shy, had quickly made a name for herself as an excellent assistant and eventual was able to move her way up the ladder to an actual journalist. Since then, Serena had been writing articles for the Times and had become a rather distinguished writer in America.

"Well enough, I suppose," Serena said. "I mean, we write and it's published, and then we write some more. There have been a few articles about what's going on here but not many. I think people know what's going on but they don't really want to admit it."

Amy pursed her lips together and nodded a bit. "Sounds like us last year," she said. She exhaled heavily and ran a hand through her hair. "You better hope that the same thing that happened here doesn't happen back there." Serena paused and leaned closer to her friend.

"What exactly did happen here?" she asked carefully. "We've all heard the rumors of course, but I've been having a bit of difficulty discerning the truth from the rumors."

"Well, what have you heard?" Amy asked, figuring that it would be easier to find out what her friend knew before going into the entire story. That could take a while after all.

"That Voldemort popped up in your Ministry of Magic and that there was some sort of duel in one of the Departments," Serena told the witch. "I mean, that's not true right? Something just got a little skewed as it crossed the ocean, yes?"

Amy sighed and looked the witch in the eye. There was no twinkle in her eye as her mind flashed back to that night. How she and Charlie had left her parents' house in a flash and had gone into battle without a second thought. The witch remembered battling Avery and the pain that had coursed through her body and then her mind as he invaded her memories. She also remembered watching as Sirius Black, a dear friend and trusted comrade of hers, feel through the veil, vanishing before everyone's eyes.

"No, that's all true," Amy admitted softly, taking another sip of her drink and wishing for just a brief moment that she had something a little stronger. "Unfortunately." Serena cocked her head as she looked at her friend, and Amy sighed quietly. "We lost a member of the Order that night. It's still a little fresh in everyone's mind."

There was more silence between the two, and in that time Amy took another sip of her drink, sending a silent toast to Sirius. Through the quiet, the conversations of the drunken witches and wizards washed over the two, and the crackling of the nearby fire filled in the background and crack of noise.

Serena broke the silence as her finger traced over the rim of her bottle. "But what business did Voldemort have in the Ministry? What could he possibly want?"

Amy froze, her eyes narrowing as she peered across the table at her friend. What Serena was asking was classified information, information that had been entrusted to the witch by Albus Dumbledore. She had sworn to never reveal any of the information to anyone outside the Order, but then again, Serena had also given herself to the Order. She too had been willing to do exactly what Amy had done, so why couldn't she know as well? After all, she was a part of the Order, just in a different country.

She looked over her shoulder at everyone else in the room before resting her elbows on the scratched wooden table and looking Serena very seriously in the eye. "Within the Ministry is a Department known as the Department of Mysteries. It's a confidential part of the Ministry, and even those who work in the Department don't know everything that goes on, so it's essential that this information doesn't pass onto any unnecessary ear." Serena nodded in understand, and Amy continued on.

"Within the depths of the Department is a room completed dedicated to any and every prophecy that has ever been made. There are- were," Amy corrected herself, "thousands and thousands of orbs that contained prophecies that date back hundreds of years. One of those prophecies was related to Voldemort and held information on why he went after Harry Potter fifteen years ago."

"Harry Potter," Serena broke in. "The-boy-who-lived, right? The boy who Voldemort tried to kill but ended up surviving?"

Amy nodded. "We had reason to believe that the prophecy not only explained why Voldemort went after Harry but also what would happen to the both of them. It was our duty to protect the prophecy and keep Voldemort and his followers from obtaining it."

"But obviously something went wrong," Serena said, and Amy smiled a bit.

"Yes, obviously," she agreed. "Harry has a special connection with Voldemort-one that no one can really explain – and at times his mind and Voldemort's can be connected and Harry can see into Voldemort's mind. Voldemort discovered this and used it to his advantage. He was able to make Harry see this vision of him torturing his godfather and Harry with a few of his classmates left the school to go and help. Before he left the school, Harry was able to pass on a message to one of the teachers who is part of the Order and he was able to warn us about Harry's flight. A group of us went down to the Ministry to help and by the time we got there, Harry had gotten the prophecy and there was a duel going on. The prophecy was smashed and most of the Death Eaters captured."

"Couldn't there have been information in the prophecy that could help you defeat Voldemort?" Serena asked.

"Ah yes, well fortunately, Professor Dumbledore actually heard the telling of the prophecy and he, and he alone, knows the details of it," Amy told her. "We're lucky that the prophecy didn't wind up in Voldemort's hands and it's probably better that it was smashed, even if we have to stay in the dark."

"Speaking of staying in the dark," Serena continued, taking another sip of her drink. "You haven't been very specific on what it is Dumbledore wants all of us in America to be doing. I know that you asked Blondie and Bridgette to help out the Order too, but none of us know exactly what it is that's being asked."

Blondie and Bridgette had been classmates of Serena and Amy while at Salem. The four girls had roomed together during the duration of their academic careers, and they had been the first ones Amy had asked to help the Order.

"Well, right now there's not much you can do," Amy told her. "I mean, I was in America just a few months ago and it seemed to me as though this wave of Dark Magic hadn't spread that far yet, but that doesn't mean it won't spread. Until the war actually starts, I think the only thing you all can do is sit tight and try and keep everyone safe."

Serena nodded in understanding. "And when the war does break out? What do we do then?" she asked and she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear again. Amy noted the nervous twitch in her hand, remembering how that particular motion of Serena's was a nervous tick, and for a moment Amy hated herself for allowing Serena and all of her friends back in America become part of this screwed up Order.

"You don't have to do anything," Amy told her suddenly. "If you really don't want to then everyone in America is completely at liberty to not do a damn thing. When war does break out, it's going to be dangerous and no one will be safe, not really at least, so if you or anyone else even has the slightest bit of doubts about helping out, then you don't have to. It's as simple as that."

Serena's blue-green eyes widened in shock and she cocked her head a bit. "We're not just going to leave you all here to rot, Amy," she told the teacher. "We knew what we signed up for and we're in too deep to back out now."

"Not really," Amy protested. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if any one of you were hurt. It's because of me that you are all involved anyway. If it weren't for me, none of you would know about this and you would all be living your lives blissfully unaware."

"Amy," Serena said. She laughed a humorless laugh. "Just because we live a few thousand miles apart doesn't mean we don't still get news about what's happening here. Almost everyone knows about the break-outs and the missing people and the rise of Voldemort. We wouldn't be unaware, and I don't think I would be able to sit home in blissful naivety and ignorance knowing that there was tragedy and horror going on here when I could help.

"Sure, it's all a bit frightening," Serena continued, shrugging her shoulders a little. "But so is starting a new job, and making friends, and falling in love, and we still do all of that, don't we?" Amy laughed under her breath. Serena didn't know just how true those words were to her, especially since coming to Hogwarts. "Just because we're on a different continent doesn't mean we can run from our fears, so why not stand up to them, right?"

Amy nodded and smiled, thinking how Serena would've made one hell of a Gryffindor if she had gone to Hogwarts. She may be quiet and shy, but she certainly had guts.

"Right," she agreed. "Why not?"

The witches both took a sip from their drinks, as they let Serena's words seep into their brains. For someone who kept her thoughts to herself, she really should speak her mind a bit more. Amy was sure the world could benefit from everything running through her brain.

Serena coughed a little to clear her throat, and Amy looked up from her drink to catch her eye.

"So when the war does break out?" She asked again. "What do we do?"

Amy swallowed. "We're going to fight," she answered simply. She ran a hand through her still wet hair and pushed it to the side so that it fell over her shoulder. "And we're definitely going to need all of your help, which means that you're going to have to be ready to go into battle at a moment's notice."

"Ask and you shall receive," Serena replied. "And let's hope that when the battle does break out, which I'm assuming it will-" Amy nodded begrudgingly here, and Serena continued on, "-let's hope we all make it through." Amy nodded and raised her bottle as her friend did the same. The clinked the necks of their drinks together before taking a sip, praying to Merlin that the battle would pan out the way they hoped.

Yet, they both knew their prayers would be unheard.

…..

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Blah. To bed! Next chapter should be Katie and the parcel, but... I may throw in some yummy red-head, dragonologist... only time (which should be provided during the duration of my train rides) shall tell.

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	50. Chapter 49

**AN: **Hello again! Sorry for the wait. I know I said I would try and update before school started, but I'm afraid the semester sort of snuck up on me and after it had started...well.. I was swamped. On the first day I was assigned something like 100 pages of reading for one class! I swear my brain is about to explode with all this information I now have on colonial America.. freakin' APUSH... oh and Chemistry? Kill me. Ugh... school... but... on the (kind of) plus side, I go to a CPS school, and if you haven't heard, my teachers are all on strike! Still not sure if this a good or not, but I am appreciative of the extra day, and you should be too! It's because of this extra day that I've stayed up late to get this chapter out to you! So, please, enjoy! And review... I love reviews..

**Dedication:** Happy Happy Birthday Toner and Corey!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

* * *

><p>Though Dumbledore had been spending little time at Hogwarts as of late, he had still found time to talk to Professor McGonagall, to ensure that she was embracing her duties as Deputy Headmistress during his absence. The witch, of course, didn't really need anyone to tell her what to do and had, with the help of the Head Boy and Girl, been organizing for the first trip to Hogsmeade while at the same time maintaining a firm grip on the newly-tightened security measures that had been set in place. The entire faculty had agreed that it was important for the students to be able to leave the grounds, and with everything that was going on in the world, they weren't about to take away what little freedom they had left.<p>

Of course, freedom does come with a price, and the price that the students of Hogwarts were having to pay was that they would be able to go to Hogsmeade as long as they had a teacher act as a guard or chaperone of sorts. The students weren't too thrilled to know there would be a teacher out amongst them, watching their every move to ensure that they weren't being stupid, but at the same time, none of the teachers were thrilled to know that one of them would have to give up their free time to watch teens act like… teens outside the constraints of a classroom. This meant that there were very few (read: _no_) teachers willing to volunteer their little free time to go to Hogsmeade with the students.

Due to the lack of volunteers, McGonagall took it upon herself to volunteer some of the teachers herself. She, of course, was too busy to do the chaperoning herself, but she obviously believed that Amy would be more than capable (and happy) to give her time to the students. This explained why the Charms professor found herself glumly trailing after the Hogwarts students as they made their way to the little village outside the castle grounds. The witch had hoped to get in a few hours to herself, perhaps reading one of the text she had accumulated over the summer or by taking a nap or something, but no. McGonagall had insisted that she was the only person for the job and thus she had a duty to the kids to ensure that they didn't act like complete idiots and wind up killing themselves.

Amy wasn't the only professor on the trip, of course, but she was the only one who had been selected to chaperone the little chitlins. All the other professors who had also left the castle were out and about doing their own business while Amy stood outside the shops, keeping a weathered eye on all of the students. The kids didn't seem to have a problem with Amy accompanying them, mostly because she didn't care what they did as long as they weren't dealing with Death Eaters or maiming someone.

The witch had been at her post for almost an hour, much of which she had spent hunched over with her hands buried in her pockets as wind and sleet rushed at her from all directions. Her hair was stuck to her face, and she was shivering beneath her coat. Students continued to pass her by as they rushed to find warmth and shelter but Amy remained outside, her eyes narrowed together and a cross look on her face as she watched them go by.

Oh how she envied them. What she wouldn't give to be able to go inside the Three Broomsticks and curl up near the fire, a Butterbeer in hand… or better yet back at the castle where she could take a nap in the quiet silence of the students' absence. But no, McGonagall had to volunteer her for this insipid chaperoning gig. Amy wondered for a moment if this was McGonagall's way of saying that she secretly despised the witch, but she shrugged this thought off, figuring that if the professor really did hate her, she'd probably be dead.

With that happy thought in mind, Amy began to walk up and down the cobblestone street. She felt like a guard or patrolman the way that she was looking shifty eyed from student to student as they passed her on their way to their next warm destination, but she figured she'd rather be thought of as a creep than let a student go passed her doing something stupid. She shivered as some of the sleet slipped underneath her jacket and slithered down her back. She stopped in her tracks, just before an alley, and jumped up and down in an attempt to get the icy rain out of her clothes. She was sure she looked ridiculous, hopping up and down like a lunatic, but at the moment, she didn't really care. Her brain had probably frozen over by now and the only thought still running through her mind was that she really, really, _really_ hated Minerva McGonagall. That and she wished she was inside. Somewhere, anywhere, it didn't matter to her. She just wished that she was out of the gosh darn cold and-

From the shadowy depths of the alley, a pair of arms slinked out and wrapped themselves around the witch's waist. She jumped at the feel of the muscled forearms around her, and Amy felt her blood go colder than before. How could she be so stupid to stand in plain sight in front of an alley? She knew what was out there, and yet she still didn't pay her surroundings enough attention. With her luck, the muscled arms of what she assumed to be a wizard would turn out to be Avery's or some other Death Eater who had a vengeance against her.

She pushed these thoughts away as she felt herself being pulled backwards into the alleyway. It didn't even occur to her to cry out or scream as the shadows and sleet washed over her as she moved further into the darkness. In a moment, Amy was pressed against the slick wall of the alley building. Her eyes were wide as she peered into the shadows, trying to discern who had grabbed her as she felt dread grow within her gut. Yet, she couldn't see the face of her pulled her away no matter how much she squinted and tried. From the corner of her eye, she saw several students meandering down the path, and with a gasp, she made to call out to them when the wizard finally began to speak.

"Miss me?"

The voice wasn't the one she had been expecting. She had been expecting the raspy, cruel voice of the wanted Death Eater, of the man who had tortured her more than once. Instead, the voice that slid into the darkness, pushing the shadows away, was deep and soothing, and so incredibly familiar to her that it could only be that of…

"Charlie?" Amy demanded. Her voice was laced with rage as the alley suddenly became flooded with light as the wizard pulled out his wand. She stared up at him in shock as the red head smiled down at her, obviously mistaking her fury for disbelief, as he looked down at her with twinkle in his blue eyes.

"Hello there," he said, his eyes roaming over the witch's frozen expression as he familiarized himself with her face. He hadn't seen her in over a month, and he couldn't help himself as he leaned down, her lips practically calling to him.

Amy, however, had a different idea.

Though Charlie's hands were still wrapped around her waist, practically trapping her arms to the side of her body, Amy was able to pull her hand out, and with a tiny noise of anger, she punched him in the shoulder as hard as she could.

Charlie let out a little oomph of air and took a step back. His forehead furrowed together as he looked down at the witch curiously.

"What was that for?" he asked, rubbing the muscle tenderly. It hadn't really hurt of course, but it was certainly unexpected and Amy clenched her jaw together as she took a step towards the wizard, glaring furiously at him.

"You jerk!" she cried. "Why on earth would you do that?"

"Do what?" Charlie demanded, holding his hands up in question. "Surprise you?" The witch made a noise of irritation as she crossed her arms over her chest. The cold was beginning to leave her a bit as her rage and fear warmed her.

"Do you have any idea how scared I was just then?" Amy's voice cracked a bit as she realized that she had in fact been terrified out of her mind, and she had to shut her eyes for a moment so that she could gather her thoughts. _It's just Charlie. Just Charlie. It's not Avery or Voldemort or some other Death Eater… It's just Charlie. Stupid, idiotic Charlie. _She repeated this over and over in her mind as her nails gripped her arms tightly and were it not for her coat, there would definitely have been little crescent shaped marks in her skin.

"Why would you be scared?" Charlie asked. He kept his voice low and he spoke slowly, attempting to be soothing so as to not infuriate (or scare) the witch anymore.

Amy opened her eyes and cocked her head at the wizard, her lips pursed together. "Oh, I don't know," she drawled. "It's not like we're in the beginning stages of a war and there are people out there who would love to get their hands on someone like me. You know, a member of the Order of Phoenix, an employee of Albus Dumbledore, oh and a Mudblood, of course."

Charlie hissed at the slur that escaped from her lips but she took no notice as she stared pointedly at him. He swallowed and reached out to grasp her arms in his strong hands. "First of all, don't ever, and I really mean _ever_, call yourself a-a, _that,"_ he told her, staring seriously at her as she looked up at him. "You're worth a thousand of them and you're worth even more to me. It doesn't make sense for someone like you to ever have to deal with hearing that slur addressed at you, alright?" Amy knew that when he said them he really meant the Death Eaters and all the other racist witches and wizards out there, but she didn't nod or make any motion as though she agreed with him. Charlie, however, knew that she understood, at least a little, what he was trying to say, so he continued on.

"And second," he said softly, adjusting his grip on the witch's arms and drawing her further into his warmth. "I'm sorry. I know I seem to have said that a lot as of late, but that doesn't make it any less true. I didn't mean to scare you; I just thought a little surprise in this boring life you keep telling me about would be nice."

Amy sighed and shut her eyes, knowing that, once again, she would not be able to be mad with the sincere wizard for long. Apparently, she had a weak spot for him. Who would have thought?

"Next time, Charlie," Amy said softly, looking straight forward at his chest which was clad in a thick army-esque jacket with a knit scarf, likely made by his mother. "Try a box of chocolates or bouquet of flowers, not dragging me into a dark and creepy alleyway." Charlie pressed his lips together and nodded as he thought over the last ten minutes.

"Yeah, probably not the best idea, was it?" he asked, and his eyebrows furrowed together with concern and realization. Amy laughed quietly and shook her head, her wet curls slipping over her shoulder as she did so. She went to push them back impatiently, but Charlie beat her to it, unraveling his hand from her waist to brush them back himself. He paused for a moment to gently rub his thumb over her neck. She shivered at the feel of his warm hand against her cold skin and she leaned into his touch. She knew she had missed the wizard, but she hadn't realized just how much until that touch.

"No, not exactly," she agreed, a gentle smile pulling at her lips as looked up at him through her eyelashes. She sighed quietly as Charlie's grip tightened again on her waist, and she almost fell into his arms before a thought seemed to strike her and she looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Wait, what are you doing here?" she demanded, peering up at him. "You're not supposed to get back for another two months!" Charlie let out a few deep chuckles, and scratched the back of his head nonchalantly.

"What I can't come surprise my favorite witch every once in a while?" he asked, smiling brightly at the witch.

"I wouldn't let your mother hear you say that to me," she warned him. "But really, what happened with the mission?"

"Trust me, I won't," he assured her. "As for the mission, it's not over, not in the slightest." Amy groaned a little at that, and Charlie shook his head a bit, still smiling. "But Professor Dumbledore wanted us to report back just briefly. He knows we're on the right track, and he just wanted to ensure to provide us with a few more possibilities as to where the Death Eaters are hiding out."

"But Dumbledore hasn't been at the castle in days," Amy contradicted, her eyes narrowed a bit. If she remembered correctly, the Headmaster hadn't actually been at the school since the Friday before last.

"Ah, well I never said I saw him at the castle, now did I?" Charlie asked, tapping the witch lightly on the nose. She glowered up at him and rubbed her nose in irritation. "Apparently he's been traveling as of late –" Amy snorted at this while Charlie continued on, "- and he had a few of us come to the Hog's Head last night. Apparently, he has an in with the barkeeper there."

"So, when do you go back?" she asked him. She looked down a bit, hating herself for sounding so meek in front of the wizard, as she fidgeted with the fringe on the edge of her scarf.

"The others already left. They expect me back tonight," he told her softly and Amy nodded in understanding. With a soft smile, the wizard tightened his grip around her and drew her, once and for all, against the warmth of his chest. Immediately, Amy slipped her arms around his torso and burrowed her face into his body. She let out a small sigh as she felt the muscles in his arms tightened around her, and she breathed in the woodsy scent that was entirely Charlie, a scent which she had greatly missed since leaving for school. Though the two would have been separated either way because of her working at Hogwarts, simply knowing that he wasn't even home, but out of the region entirely seemed to make the witch miss him even more, and she was so incredibly glad to be able to see him, even if it was for just a few hours.

Charlie adjusted his grip a bit so that his arms wrapped all the way around her waist, keeping her as close to him as possible as he leaned down to press his face into her now damp, yet still unruly curls. Though she had been standing in the sleet and wind for some time, the rain hadn't washed away the smell of her shampoo and the wizard spent several moments reveling in the scent of pomegranates and violets that seemed to wash over him in waves.

He pulled away after a minute or so of having her in his arms again and with a gentle hand, he reached up to grasp her chin in his fingertips. She looked up at him expectantly, and he didn't waste another second before leaning down to press his lips lovingly against hers. Amy groaned despite the gentleness of the kiss, and unwound a hand from his body to grip the back of his head and pull his lips closer to hers, deepening the kiss.

The two could have spent the rest of the day there, heck they could have spent the rest of their _lives_ kissing in the damp, dark alley, and they probably would have too had the sound of loud scuffle just outside the alleyway broke them apart with a smack.

"Give it to me!" An enraged voice bellowed just at the entrance of the alleyway. There was some choked sputtering and the sound of shuffling and banging their feet against a wall.

"Harry, you musn't!"

Amy immediately recognized the timbre of the voice, and her eyes went wide very quickly. She drew away from Charlie for a moment, wondering what on earth Harry and Hermione (and likely Ron as well) has gotten themselves into. Again. Charlie and Amy spared each other a look before hurrying around the corner of the alley and towards the sound of the ruckus just outside the entrance to the side street, their hands tightly held in the others. They turned the corner in a rush just in time to see Mundungus Fletcher, a member of the Order who actually did very little work, disappear with a loud pop.

Amy's eyes were wide as she watched Harry swear at the top of his lungs, lunging at the spot where Mundungus had been moments ago. His eyes were filled with rage and his face was screwed together with fury, as he clawed at the spot where Fletcher had just disappeared from. He hadn't noticed the arrival of Amy and Charlie or the arrival of a mousy haired witch from the other corner.

"COME BACK, YOU THIEVING – !"

"There's no point, Harry," the other witch declared softly, and everyone turned their attention onto her. Amy smiled softly at the appearance of her British friend, but her smile quickly slipped away with the sleet as she realized that she still had the dirty brown hair that she had appeared in the last time Amy had seen her.

"Mundungus will probably be in London by now. There's no point yelling," Tonks continued as she surveyed the teen who was breathing heavily. Over Harry's head, the witch caught sight of Amy and Charlie and nodded slightly in their direction.

"He's nicked Sirius's stuff! Nicked it!" Harry protested furiously, his hands shaking with anger as he looked desperately at the Metamorphagus.

Amy's eyes went wider than before and Charlie gripped her hand tightly at the words. The witch felt her heart give a sad squeeze as she noted the despair in the student's voice. She looked sadly up at Charlie whose jaw was clenched together. It was bad enough that Harry had lost his godfather, someone who held a very dear place in his life, but to have someone steal from him as well? To take things that once belonged to the man he revered? There was just torture. Even if Sirius could care less about his belongings, each thing was somehow his, and in turn, each thing was something Sirius.

"Yes, but still," TOnks said, clasping Harry on the shoulder and nodding at Ron and Hermione who were glancing between their friend and the adults around them. "You should get out of the cold." She smiled wanly at them before turning and disappearing into the sleet of the day.

Harry was still breathing heavily as Hermione and Ron looked at him apprehensively. Amy took a breath and stepped forward, placing a gloved hand on his shoulder. She felt him shake underneath her hand, and she squeezed his shoulder tightly. "Tonks is right Harry," Amy told him. "Brooding out in the cold won't help you at all." From the corner of her eye, Amy saw Ron move away from Hermione and over towards his brother. The two redheads shared a few words before stepping apart.

Amy squeezed Harry's shoulder again before pushing him off in the direction of the Three Broomsticks. He took a few stumbling steps before Hermione stepped forward and looped her arm through his. She glanced back at Ron, gesturing for him to join her. Charlie clapped his little brother on the back and Ron hurried off in the sloshy snow to join his friends as they made their way towards the warm tavern. Amy watched the trio walk away, her forehead furrowed together as she watched them do so, and she bit her lip as she contemplated what exactly had just happened.

It was understandable for Harry to be so upset, especially since Mundungus had, unintentionally, behaved so cruelly towards him, but at the same time, the wizard should have known better than to steal from Sirius, even after his death. Still, it was surprising to her that someone who usually appeared so content, albeit sad, could show such anger. Of course, it wasn't uncommon to see Harry furious with Umbridge the past year, but who wasn't angry with that Toad?

Amy jumped a little as Charlie moved behind her, placing an arm around her waist and drawing her into his warmth. She shivered a bit as the warmth of his body burned against the cold of her skin. She sighed loudly and rubbed her head in frustration as she leaned into his side.

"So, this is boring for you?" Charlie asked her curiously.

Amy laughed a bit and shook her head before looking up at the wizard. "I assure you," she told him, moving her arm around his waist and slipping it into the pocket of his coat. "It's not normally like this." She sighed again and rested her head on his shoulder. "That boy just cannot have one good day, can he?"

Charlie made a noncommittal noise as he looked down at Amy's head. Her wavy hair was pressed to her head, slick with melted sleet, and he leaned down to press a kiss to her head.

"Come on," he told her softly, smiling down at her as she looked up at him. "I've only got a few hours, and I'd rather not spend them all out in the cold." Amy bit her lip and cocked her head a bit as he began to drag her towards the Three Broomsticks.

"Charlie, I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on all the students," Amy told him as he drew her closer and closer towards the pub. "I can't just wander off."

"They get you for more than half the year, love," Charlie reminded her. "I'm sure they could spare you for a few hours."

Amy made to protest the wizard but was cut off as Charlie pressed a fierce kiss on her lips. She groaned but didn't push him away, and Charlie pulled back after a moment.

"Just a few hours," he assured her, his forehead pressed against hers and their noses just barely touching. "They can't get into too much trouble, can they?"

…..

The couple left the pub hand-in-hand some time later, just as the grey sky grew darker. The streets were emptier then they had been before as many students began their journey back to the castle. Charlie had decided to walk Amy back before heading back to Romania. They were trailing some distance behind the students, no words passing between them as Amy rested her head on Charlie's muscled shoulder, her eyes half-closed with contentment.

"So, am I forgiven for scaring you?" Charlie asked as they made their way down the muddy road to the castle. His voice was soft against the roaring wind around them, and Amy smiled gently.

"I suppose," she told him, gripping his hand a tad tighter. Her voice was softer than his and Charlie could tell she was tired. Nonetheless, her answer made him stop abruptly in the mud, and Amy wearily took her head from his shoulder to look at him.

"You suppose?" he asked, an eyebrow cocked as he looked down at the drowsy witch. "What does that mean?"

Amy smiled teasingly up at him. "It means that I may be more inclined to forgive you if you stopped talking and kissed me." Charlie smirked at her but leaned down nonetheless to kiss her softly, as the rain and sleet continued to pour down around them. The wind picked up a bit, pulling and playing with Amy's loose hair, but the witch took no notice as she cupped Charlie's face in her hands, her fingernails digging softly into his skin, as she kept his lips pressed against hers.

"Professor! Professor!"

Amy pulled away from Charlie with a gasp, ignoring Charlie as he groaned at the interruption. Amy wiped at her mouth as she turned towards the sounds of the shouting to find Harry Potter running towards her at full speed, his face fearful.

"Harry?" Amy asked as the teen skidded to a halt in front of the couple. "Harry, what's wrong?" The boy took in deep, gasping breaths as Amy and Charlie stared wide-eyed at the teen.

"Professor, it's Katie," he panted. "She's been hurt up there, or curse, or something – "

"Harry, take a breath," Amy commanded. She stepped out of Charlie's embrace to place a hand on his shoulder. "What happened?"

"Katie Bell's been cursed!" Harry cried, standing to his full height and looking down at the teacher. Amy's eyes went wide and she looked back at Charlie before back at Harry. She nodded quickly and the teen took off back up the road with Amy and Charlie following closely behind him.

As they turned a corner, the trio spotted a group of students all clustered around a figure that was withering and shaking in the muddy snow. Amy sped a bit and pushed her way through the students until she was able to kneel beside the screaming girl. Amy immediately recognized the girl from her N.E.W.T. Charms class. Her eyes raced over the teen's face, trying to figure out what exactly had happened when Hagrid came bounding down the path from the castle. He ordered the kids aside and in a moment, he had picked the still screaming girl off.

"Best take her up to the castle," he muttered at Amy, who nodded swiftly. The group watched as the groundskeeper ran back up the path towards the castle. Immediately, Amy turned on her heel to face the small crowd of students. Amy surveyed the crowd and soon spotted Hermione with her arms wrapped around a sobbing student.

"Did it just happen all of a sudden, or – ?" Hermione was asking concernedly.

"It was when that package tore," the girl, who Amy recognized as Leanne Crowley from one of her classes. The still crying girl pointed at a brown, paper package on the ground. Amy turned to look at the package as Ron leaned down to touch it, stopping when Harry grabbed his arm and yanked him away.

"_Don't touch it,"_ Harry ordered. Amy watched as he knelt down beside the package. "I've seen that before. It was on display in Borgin and Burkes ages ago." He looked up stonily at Amy. "The label said it was cursed. Katie must have touched it."

"How did Katie get a hold of this?" Amy demanded, looking at the group of students. "Did she buy this?" Leanne shook her head, her shoulders shaking in Hermione's grip.

"Well, that's why we were arguing," the witch told the professor. "She came back from the bathroom in the Three Broomsticks holding it, said it was a surprise for somebody at Hogwarts and she had to deliver it. She looked all funny when she said it…. Oh no, oh no, I bet she'd been Imperiused and I didn't realize!" The witch sobbed even harder and Hermione looked worriedly at the girl.

Amy pursed her lips as she pushed her hair back. "Alright, I want everyone back to the castle now," Amy ordered using her I'm-a-teacher voice. The students nodded and hurriedly began to make their way back towards the castle, leaving Amy alone with Charlie, Hermione, Ron, Harry, and a still sobbing Leanne. "I want you four to go up to the Infirmary, understand?" The students nodded and turned to follow the path towards the school.

Once they were out of sight, Amy kneeled down next to the slightly torn, brown package. She peered at it before drawing her wand. She waved her wand and the package levitated into the air. Carefully, so as to ensure that the necklace didn't fall out of the package, Amy followed the students, Charlie following after her in silence. The howling wind was the only thing which broke the silence between them.

…..

Amy sighed as she shut the door to the Infirmary behind her, leaning against the cool wood of the door. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to wrap her mind around everything that had happened in the last few hours.

First, Amy had stood for hours out in the sleet and cold, watching as students passed her by on their way to a warm destination. Next, the witch had her wits scared out of her by her boyfriend who had decided it would be a good idea to drag her into a dark, creepy alley. Then it was Harry and Mundungus, followed by Charlie convincing her to leave her post to enjoy some time with him. And then… a student of hers had been cursed, so terribly cursed that the teachers believed she would have to be sent to St. Mungo's… a _student_ cursed on her watch while she was busy sitting in a corner of a pub, her hand wrapped tightly in a wizard's.

She groaned and pushed herself away from the door. She squeezed her hands together, her fingernails digging small, red crescents into her skin. How could she be so stupid as to leave the students alone? How could she simply leave her post to enjoy a few hours with Charlie? How could she do that? It was her responsibility to watch over the students, and she had failed miserably at that.

Merlin, was she really that selfish? Was she really selfish enough to leave her students alone in this chaotic prelude to a war while she stayed warm and safe in the arms of her redheaded wizard? Amy bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from punching a wall or screaming at herself.

The sound of shoes on stone sent Amy spinning around, her eyes opening to land on Charlie who was standing awkwardly a few feet away from her. He surveyed her tired face as he stepped a bit closer to her.

"How is she?" he asked, his voice low in the shadows of the hallway. Amy shrugged a bit as she looked down at her twisting hands.

"Madam Pomfrey doesn't know what to do," Amy told him. "She's not sure exactly what the necklace does, but what we do know is that Katie's not getting any better. If she doesn't wake up by the end of the week they want to send her to St. Mungo's." Her voice trailed off as she shook her head slightly. Charlie sighed a bit and he stepped even closer to the witch. He reached out to link his fingers with hers but Amy pulled back with a jerk. Her eyes never left the floor.

Charlie stared at her, hurt bubbling up inside of him. Amy looked up at him through her now dried bangs before back down at the floor. A moment passed between them, heavy with silence and frustration.

"It's my fault," Amy whispered in the hallway. "I should have been watching them."

"Amy," Charlie protested. He stepped a bit closer to her. "It's not your fault, you didn't curse that necklace and you didn't give that package to Katie either."

Amy looked up with blazing eyes. "It was my job to watch them, to make sure that they didn't get into trouble, but instead I let you drag me away. I let you distract me and one of my students got hurt."

"We didn't know this would happen!" Charlie argued. "Who would have thought someone would give a student a cursed necklace?"

"Well someone did give her that necklace," Amy cried. "They did and now she's cursed, and no one knows when or if she'll wake up. But it doesn't matter that we didn't know it would happen, what matters is that I was supposed to protect them, they're my charges, and I let them slip through the cracks. I let them get hurt, and it's my fault that Katie is in there right now. And you know what?" Amy took a step forward and jabbed a finger into Charlie's chest. "It's your fault too. None of this would have happened if you hadn't come here today. I wouldn't have gotten distract and I would have seen what happened to Katie."

"You can't be sure of that," Charlie disagreed furiously. "You can't be sure that you could have helped her and you can't be sure that it was either of our faults."

"No, but I am sure that it's because of you that I wasn't looking after my students," Amy hissed. Her emotions were getting the better of her, but at the moment she didn't care. She didn't care that she was accusing the man she loved for inadvertently hurting a student. She didn't care that she was blaming him for something neither of them had control over. What she did care about was the fact that a student of hers was lying unconscious in the Hospital Wing after being cursed when Amy was supposed to be watching her.

"You're being unreasonable," Charlie told the witch, and Amy glared up at him.

"You're only saying that because you know I'm right," Amy shot back. "You know that things may have been different if you hadn't come here today. You know I could have protected her if I hadn't let you distract me. My students needed me but I was too busy being a couple with you, and no matter what you say, that won't change."

"You're right," Charlie agreed, leaning down until he was but inches from the witches face. "Nothing I say will change what happened, and nothing you say will change it either." He let his eyes roam over her face furiously before he turned away and walked as quickly away from the witch as possible.

Amy waited until he turned the corner and the sound of his footsteps echoed away before letting her tears drip down her face.

She was supposed to have been there for them, for all of her students, but she had left them. It was her fault, and no matter how much she tried to blame Charlie, she should have known better and she shouldn't have left them alone.

It was her fault after all.

…..

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Gah... not sure where that ending came from, but there it all is... Hope you all enjoyed it and I would really love to hear what you all think about it!

If you're in Chicago, enjoy your day of freedom!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	51. Chapter 50

**AN:** Hey everyone! As some of you might now, my teachers are still on strike and being the nerd that I am, I've finished all of the homework that was assigned which means... more time to write fanfiction! Yay! Woot! Hurrah! I am a bit disappointed about the lack of reviews for the last few chapters, but at the same time, I won't let myself get discouraged. I know how this story is going to pan out and I'm not going to quit. There may be a bit of a break here and then during the school year, but this story will be completed... Speaking of being complete (sort of...), this chapter marks our arrival at 200,000 words for this story! HURRAH! VICTORY! FANTASTIC (this should be read in Christopher Eccleston's voice by the way... ALLONS-Y!)! Unfortunately though, this is a bit of a filler chapter, but it also has the beginning of a new part of the story, so...enjoy...

**Dedication:** To my wonderful teachers! Thank you for teaching us one of the most valuable lessons of all time. Thank you for teaching us that no matter what people may say to us, we should never let them get us down and we should never let them walk over us and our beliefs. It's worth missing school and having to make it up during the summer if it means that you are getting the fair share that you deserve.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

* * *

><p>No letters passed between Amy and Charlie over the following weeks. Amy was still brimming with anger at herself and anger at the wizard for what had happened at Hogsmeade. She knew she was being irrational and that she really shouldn't blame him. Yes, he had been the one to suggest that she go off with him, even for a short while, but she had been the one to agree. She should have known better and she should have put the students above her love life.<p>

Every day, Amy checked in with Professor McGonagall to see if there was any new news on Katie's status at St. Mungo's. The teen had been moved the day after the accident and nothing about her health had changed. The necklace had gone with her in hopes that the Healers at St. Mungo's would be able to use it to find out how Katie had been cursed, but so far they had found nothing. Katie was still lying unconscious in a hospital wing somewhere, and no one knew exactly why. As far as the professor knew, nothing had changed in Katie's status and the Healers weren't sure when anything would change. They had made mention a few times that it might not change at all. McGonagall tried to keep that fact to herself seeing as she knew that Amy blamed herself for what had happened, but Amy was smart enough to know that if nothing had changed over weeks it was likely not to change at all.

Unfortunately (or perhaps, fortunately), Amy was unable to spend very much time dwelling over the incident of that day in Hogsmeade as much of her attention was being focused upon her students' drama. Somehow, and she had no idea how, Amy had been pulled into the growing tensions within the students' lives, including the lives of students who weren't even in her house. In fact, it was mostly the Gryffindors that she found herself dealing with, although she wasn't too surprised about that. While the red-gold house was most commonly known (and revered) for their bravery, they were also the most passionate house and it wasn't surprising for there to be feuds and toiling romances within the confines of their tower. Amy really had no issue with this; after all it was simply part of growing up. What she did have a problem with was the fact that the students were allowing their drama to escape from the walls of their cozy tower and slip into the halls and classrooms, most particularly, _her_ classroom.

It seemed as though each day a new drama had arisen within the house and for some reason that Amy could not explain, the students felt the need to duke it out in her classroom no matter the time or lesson. It was infuriating and Amy had to restrain herself several times from simply snapping and screaming at them. There was one time with her sixth year N.E.W.T. students that she had completely given up and thrown herself down at her desk, but none of the teens seemed to notice, instead focusing more on their heated glares and breathy conversations.

It grew increasingly worse as the Quidditch season fell upon them. Amy had hoped that the chance to fly around, screaming and yelling, would do the kids some good, and perhaps help them to relieve some of their pent up anger, but in fact, almost the opposite happened, especially within the Gryffindor ranks. Amy suspected that some of the new found tension within the Gryffindor house may have been related to Ron Weasley and his new girlfriend, Lavender Brown, an assumption that was supported by the numerous times Amy found Hermione Granger sobbing in an abandoned classroom.

The first time it happened was just after the Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch match. Amy had been returning to her room after several hours of grading paperwork over her desk when she had heard muffled cries from a classroom.

She had a stack of papers in her hand and she hadn't been paying much attention to her surroundings as she made her way down the hall which explained how she was able to trip over her feet and land face first on the dirty stone floor. Her papers fluttered in the air for a moment before falling to the floor where they laid strewn about. Amy groaned and pushed herself up so that she was sitting with her knees against the cold floor. She brushed the front of her clothes off and began to gather up the messy patch of papers. It was as she was reaching for a paper that had fallen near one of the classroom doors that the witch heard the sniffing and crying. She paused in her movements, the edge of the paper in her fingertips as she leaned a bit closer to the door. She pressed her ear against the word and was greeted by the morose cries of the person within.

Amy's eyebrows furrowed together as she listened to the sobs for a moment before pulling away from the door. She drew her paper from off the floor and stuffed it into the mess of papers she had collected. The witch pushed herself off the floor, her pile of papers tucked firmly against her chest and she reached for the handle to the door.

Slowly, Amy poked her head around the wood of the door and peered into the shadowy depths of the classroom. She squinted into the darkness, searching for the source of the cries and after a moment, the witch spotted the forlorn figure of a girl seated at a desk towards the front. Her shoulders were shaking horribly as she cried into her arms, and from her spot at the door, Amy took note of the large, curling mass of hair. It didn't take the witch long to recognize the hair of one Hermione Granger and she felt her heart ache a little at the sight of the sobbing teen. The witch considered for a moment about going into the classroom and wrapping an arm around the girl as she cried, much like her sister, Rose, had done for her when she was younger, but decided against it after a moment of thought. If the you witch had wanted someone to comfort her she would have stayed in her dorm, hidden away in the girls' tower rather than in a lonesome classroom that only ghosts went past at this time of night. Besides, Hermione was strong and Amy doubted that the young witch liked people seeing her vulnerable side.

Quietly, so as to not disturb the witch, Amy took a few steps back and closed the door as softly as she could while Hermione's sobs continued to echo through the quiet hall.

That was the first time Amy saw Hermione crying. The next time the teacher saw the witch, she was sitting primly in class in between Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom, looking as though she had never shed a tear in her life, while Ron sat hand-in-hand with Lavender Brown. It was unusual but Amy said nothing, choosing to instead ignore the curious behavior and focus on the lesson at hand. It was none of Amy's business about what went on in her students' lives and as long as it didn't enter her classroom and as long as a student didn't approach her with what was bothering them, Amy had no right to pry into their business. Or at least, that's what Amy told herself as a way to prevent herself from jumping down the throats of her students to figure out what was going on.

Of course, this lasted for only a few days, and it was after the fourth time that the professor found Hermione crying in an empty classroom that she finally cracked out of her teacher shell and into the much better fitting shell of an older sister and friend.

Hermione was in the same seat as always, the one at the very front of the room, and Amy shut the classroom door behind her as she quietly made her way towards the crying girl. Hermione didn't notice the witch's presence until Amy had seated herself besides the sobbing girl. Sniffing, the younger witch pulled her head out of her arms and turned to look at Amy who was look down at her.

While Hermione looked teary-eyed up at her professor, her nose red and her eyes swollen, Amy smiled softly at the witch. Hermione blinked to try and clear the tears from her eyes but they just continued to flood up and over, streaming down her face. With a gentle sigh, Amy wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulder and pulled her closer to her. Hermione trembled for a moment before falling into the witch's embrace, sobbing into the teacher's cardigan.

Tightening her grip around the student's shoulders, Amy pressed her head against the girl's mane of hair whilst rubbing her hand soothingly up and down the witch's back. After several minutes of soft murmurings and Hermione's sobs, the teacher pulled away from the student and waited for her to wipe the tears from her face before speaking.

"Hermione Granger," Amy started softly, shaking her head with a slight smile. "What on earth has happened to you?"

The girl sniffed a few times and wiped at her nose before settling her hands into her lap woefully. She clicked her nails together a few times and played with the hem of her skirt before looking up at her teacher.

"I really hate boys," she told the witch, and Amy smiled, laughing breathily.

"Oh Hermione," Amy said, nudging the witch a bit. "It can't be that bad, can it?" Hermione only looked up wide-eyed and nodded feverishly.

"It can be, I assure you professor," the teen disagreed, shaking her head as a few tears raced down her face. She sighed softly and fiddled with her fingers a bit while Amy looked at her student worriedly.

"Do you want to tell me about it? Or would you prefer to continue crying in empty classrooms every night?" Amy asked quietly. She smiled as the younger witch looked up at her with a faint blush on her face.

"Have you noticed that?" she asked, her voice shaking a bit at the thought of being caught out after hours by a teacher.

"I'm not going to yell at you, Hermione," Amy assured the witch. "I did my fair share of sneaking out and staying out when I was your age. It doesn't make much sense for me to reprimand you now. It's not like you were setting fire to things or wreaking havoc in the classrooms." Hermione smiled softly at this but the smile quickly slipped away back to her sad expression.

"It's just…" she trailed off a bit, staring at the desk in front of her before looking back at her teacher. "I don't understand why some people are so… dense about so many things. I mean, doesn't he understand everything I've done for him? Doesn't he understand how I feel about everything that's going on and bout him?"

"I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that this is Ron Weasley we're talking about," Amy broke in. She felt it would be easier for them to simply get everything out now, and it wasn't like everyone didn't know already. Nevertheless, Hermione blushed brightly at her professors words.

"Is it that obvious?" Hermione asked, and Amy laughed.

"Only a bit," she said brightly. "And don't forget, I'm dating a Weasley myself, so I know the signs quite well."

Hermione smiled at that. "You would, wouldn't you?" She sighed quietly before looking up at her teacher sadly. "It's just that I've done so much for him over the past few years. All the homework revisions and study time, not to mention putting up with every conversation he and Harry had about Quidditch and school and basically everything else. We've been through so much and they're my best friends and they know everything about me, and yet, Ron still doesn't see how much I care for him, how much I fancy him.

"And then," Hermione continued, lacing her fingers through her knotted hair, "he went and twisted my words around, making it seem like I didn't believe in him, like I thought he was incapable of achieving anything, and now…" Hermione trailed off, and Amy nodded in understanding. The 'and now' was referring to the fact that Ron was currently in a relationship with Lavender Brown, though Amy wasn't exactly sure that simply snogging (as the Brits say) made a relationship.

"I understand that it's difficult, Hermione," Amy told the witch. "Boys make everything difficult, there's no doubt about that, but that doesn't mean that you should let them control your life and how you live them. I know that Ron, and Harry, are some of the most important people in your life and you do care for them, but that doesn't mean you should bend at their every beck and call.

"Ron's made a decision about his life right now, but that doesn't mean his decision should affect your life as well," Amy continued. "I know it hurts that he would be so oblivious to your feelings, but you have to be strong. I've seen the way you look at him-" Hermione blushed a bit more at this but Amy merely smiled knowingly. "-and more importantly, I've seen the way he looks at you. You have to give him some time, but I'm sure he'll figure it out for himself soon enough, and when he does, I'm sure everything will turn out just as it should. Until he does figure it out though, you just have to continue being the strong, bright witch that you are which includes not crying in the classrooms after lights out."

Hermione smiled begrudgingly at her teacher and nodded a bit, wiping away the last of her tears.

"You're right, professor," the student agreed. "I can't let his foolish actions control who I am and what I do. If he does like the way I like him then everything will work itself out. I mean, I don't exactly believe in destiny but I'm certain this was and it will get better." Amy nodded as the girl continued to talk. She looked down at her watch and her eyes widened as she saw the time.

"I don't mean to interrupt your train of thought," Amy broke in, "but it really is late, and we both have classes in the morning. I think it would be best if you went off to bed now." Hermione took a peek at Amy's watch and her eyes went wide as well. She nodded hastily and stood up.

"Right, thank you professor," Hermione said, tucking a curl behind her ear. "Have a good rest of the night." Amy smiled as the teen pushed her chair in and made her way to the door.

"Oh and Hermione," Amy called after her. The younger witch paused at the door and looked back at her teacher. "Try not to get caught by Filch." Hermione smiled back at Amy, a true smile that reached her eyes.

"Trust me professor," the teen said brightly. "I can get past Filch no problem." Amy cocked her head as the girl slipped out of the classroom, leaving her still sitting at the desk.

"Is that a good thing?" Amy muttered to herself. The witch shook her head and got up, following the witch's steps out of the classroom. She glanced down the hall in the direction of the Gryffindor tower but she didn't see Hermione anywhere. With a smile, the witch turned and continued on her way back towards her room.

…..

As it had been since the beginning of the term, the school year was going by so slowly it was painful. While the students were immersed in their classes, clubs, and Quidditch, the teachers had little else to do except grade papers and plan class lessons. It didn't help that Dumbledore was being very recluse as of late, and there was no new information about the Order circulating to any of its members. Needless to say, all the teachers were thrilled that the Christmas holidays were upon them.

They were all thrilled except for the fact that the Christmas holidays also brought along Slughorn's Christmas Party. It wasn't that horrible a thing really, but what was horrible was that it was basically a very selective Yule Ball, where only about a tenth of the school was allowed to go. As a teacher, Amy had been invited to go, but she wasn't exactly sure that she wanted to spend what little free time she had surrounded by students attempting to make awkward conversation between each other while pot-bellied Horace Slughorn showed off his favorite students to celebrities. Amy could think of hundreds of things that she could do in that time but at the same time… she supposed there wouldn't be much harm in getting to meet a few influential people… and she didn't have to spend the entire night there either. If she got bored she could always go back to her room and curl up in bed, perhaps with a good book or a mug of hot chocolate… she wondered for a moment if the kitchens were open late at night…

For what after reason she could come up with, Amy did in fact find herself at Slughorn's Christmas Party. Unlike the Yule Ball where she had felt the need to dress up as elegantly as the students, Amy had donned a simple charcoal grey dress with the hopes that she would simply be able to blend into the background of the party and enjoy the company of the adults who would be there. There were several interesting people whom she could talk to, including several writers who Amy spent a good half hour talking to, as well as a few more popular members of the Wizard society who were gathering a lot of attention from the star-struck students.

As the party continued to get under way, Amy excused herself from the others and made her way towards the refreshments table. She had been talking for too long and her voice was incredibly parched. It didn't help that the witch thought she was coming down with a cold. Her voice would spontaneously crack mid-conversation and it ached something terrible at all hours of the day. She grabbed a glass from off the table and took an appreciative sip of the drink, relishing the feel of the cool liquid on her irritated throat.

Slowly, Amy began to meander her way around the room, her heels clicking against the tile floor, as she looked across the crowd of people. Students were milling about in their holiday best and, for the most part, seemed to be enjoying light atmosphere the party embodied.

As she nestled herself back into one of the curtains on the wall, Amy caught sight of Hermione Granger with her arm linked through that of Cormac McLaggen, a seventh year who Amy had taught for only one year. He hadn't passed his Charms O.W.L. exam and thus wasn't in any of her classes. Though Cormac had a rather smug and bright look on his face, Amy noted that Hermione looked less than thrilled to be on the arm of the seventh year. The young witch was anxiously tapping her foot and looking around uncomfortably at her date and the others around her. Amy caught the witch's eye for a moment and she gave the teacher a begging look. Amy bit her lip and shrugged at the witch, not exactly knowing what she could do to save the witch.

A loud commotion towards the front of the room drew everyone's attention and the partygoers all turned to watch as the caretaker, Filch, dragged in an irritated Draco Malfoy. The boy pulled himself out of Filch's grimy grasp and adjusted the lapels of his jacket as he glared at those in the room who were blatantly staring at him. Amy watched as words were thrown around for a few minutes before Snape stepped out of the shadows in the corner of the room. He glared at the teen in front of him before grasping him by his arm and dragging him out of the room.

There was silence for a few moments before Slughorn clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention away from the Slytherins and back onto the party. Slowly, the noise began to pick up again, and Amy looked curiously at the door that Snape and Draco had just exited from. Setting down her glass, the witch made her way across the room, her heels clicking quietly. She was about to exit the room and follow the teacher and student when Slughorn caught sight of her and called her back. The witch looked at the door to the hallway before turning back to face the pot-bellied professor with an overly-polite smile. Reluctantly, Amy allowed herself to be pulled back into the midst of partygoers, and eventually, the conversation between Snape and Draco slipped from her mind.

…..

As Amy slipped the last button through its hole, she pulled her jacket tightly over her chest and shifted her bag over her shoulder. She hurried down the last few steps out of the castle as the snow fell around her. Several students sitting in the corner of one of the courtyards waved at her as she went past, and the witch waved a hand at the students as well, smiling brightly at them as she did. She quickly made her way down the winding path along the hill until she was at the large, iron gates of the school grounds. With several waves of her wand, Amy unlocked the gates and slipped through the slight opening in the iron.

After turning to ensure that she had properly locked the gates with all of the appropriate spells, Amy picked up her small bag and began to make her way down the path that led to the school. To one side she could see the dim lights of the train station where the students had been earlier that day, but the witch turned away from the distant station and instead began to walk towards the small village in the distance. She figured that she could at least get a drink before heading home, and maybe she could use the fireplace there as well, rather than having to Apparate home.

She tugged her coat a little tighter around herself and shivered as some of the snow slipped down her collar. She was glad that the end of the first semester had come so quickly. She was glad to be going home, even if she wasn't going back to America again. She was just looking forward to sitting in her own apartment, eating food she had made herself. She would be able to read things she actually wanted to rather than crudely written students' papers and she could simply relax and enjoy herself for a little while.

Hopefully, Charlie would be back and the two of them would be able to fix everything that had happened. It had been far too long since they had talked and seeing as all letters between the two had ceased, Amy wasn't entirely sure whether or not the two of them would be able to do anything with their relationship, but she honestly hoped they would be able to do something.

Snow continued to slip through the collar of her jacket, and Amy paused, just outside an alley, to adjust the sodden material. She pressed down against her neck, shivering as the wet wool melded against her warm skin. She took a moment to open her bag and peer into its depths in search of a scarf. She leaned down a bit, pulling the bag up closer to her face as she squinted into the darkness.

In that moment when she was completely distracted by her search for something to keep her warm, a pair of arms wrapped around Amy's waist and pulled her back into the shadows between buildings. Amy clenched her jaw a bit and she tried to look over her shoulder at the person behind her.

"Charlie, it wasn't funny the first time, and it certainly isn't funny now," the witch hissed at the person behind her.

"It's not Charlie, princess."

Amy's eyes went wide and she opened her mouth to let out a piercing scream. A hand clamped over her mouth and her bag fell to the floor as she was Apparated away with a loud crack.

The snow continued to drift eerily through the village, and Hogsmeade was dark and the streets were empty. From down the street, several wizards left the warm Three Broomsticks. They laughed uproariously as they made their way up the street. Stumbling and staggering, they passed the alleyway where Amy had been but moments ago, but they took no notice of the bag which was becoming increasingly damper and damper by the snowy second.

…..

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Gasp! Oh my Rowling! If it's not Charlie, who is it? And who calls her princess?... GASP. Plot twist? (not really, jokes.)... I thought about adding in the scene with Draco and Snape and having Amy listen in, but then I thought... what if... Draco knew someone would take Amy... or what if he didn't and I'm just saying random things because it's almost five in the morning and I have to get up soon to go and picket with my teachers... ah sleep... how elusive you are... Please do review, I really appreciate it!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	52. Chapter 51

**AN: **And the strike continues, which means my free time to write also does! Blargh! Here you go guys! Enjoy for I assure you, this chapter does not have much Christmas cheeriness... muwhaha..? Oh, and thank you so much to my reviewers, xXMizz Alec VolturiXx, earthlover8815, and Alicia Spinnet! You're reviews really encouraged me to get this chapter out and I hope all my lovely, lovely readers enjoy! I probably would have had it out earlier but Ellen Degeneres is very distracting... gah...

**Dedication: **A very happy shout-out to my best friend, Amanda! Happy sixteenth birthday! You're so old...

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing you recognize.

* * *

><p>A loud pop echoed over the hills just outside the Burrow, and Charlie Weasley appeared in the snowy haze. He had a bag strapped across his chest and he was wearing a thick jacket as the snow swirled around him. The wizard sighed in contentment as he caught sight of his childhood home. The windows were a warm, glowing orange and there was smoke billowing out of the chimney. A smile tugged at his tired face as he began to make his way down the hill towards the house. He was looking forward to spending the evening with his family and whatever delicious meal his mother had come up with. He had been gone from home for too long and he couldn't wait to just sit around, perhaps with a drink in hand, without having to worry about Death Eaters and Dark Magic every second.<p>

Romania had turned out to be a bust. There were dark activities going on there, that much was for certain, but as for exactly where and who, the group that had been out there had very little to go on. Several of the members had wanted to stay behind and try and find out exactly what was going on, but Dumbledore insisted that everyone report back to the London and their jobs. Most of them had gone reluctantly, but Charlie was more than thrilled to return home. Home meant good, warm food, and a regular desk job where he wasn't chasing down Death Eater all the time, and more importantly, home meant Amy.

Charlie sighed gruffly and ran a hand through his damp hair as thoughts about Amy began to run through his mind. The past few months had been beyond difficult for him. Ever since that day he had gone to visit Amy in Hogsmeade and the events that had transpired afterward, there had been no word between them. Charlie had of course stormed off that day, furious that the witch had blamed him for what had happened to the Katie girl, but at the same time, he thought he understood where she was coming from. It was something Amy tended to do. Whenever something happened to a friend, family member, or student she had the tendency to take whatever that student was feeling and taking the blame. She had done it when her dad was ill and she was doing the same thing now. She thought it made her selfish, but Charlie understood that it was just the witch being empathetic towards those she cared for. Charlie was still a bit hurt that she had blamed him and told him off for trying to do something nice for her, but at the moment, all he really cared about was getting something to eat and then later curling up with Amy at his side.

Finally, after stumbling up the slick steps of the Burrow, Charlie paused to shake the snow from his hair and shoulders. He shivered as snow slipped down his jacket and he stomped his feet to get the muddy snow off his boots. Still shivering from the frigid snow, Charlie opened the door to the home and quickly made his way inside.

Immediately, the wizard was overwhelmed by the warmth of the fireplace and the delicious aroma of whatever his Mum was cooking. As he shrugged off his coat, Charlie noted that none of his siblings were in the front room before the crackling fire. He could, however, hear voices coming from the kitchen, and with a bright smile on his face, Charlie made his way around the large, glittering Christmas tree and towards the voices in the other room.

As he drew closer, his stomach began to rumble in hungry anticipation of whatever feast his mother was making and he patted his toned stomach appreciatively at the thought of sitting down with his family and eating a real homemade meal. It was good to be home after all.

Charlie didn't pause outside the door of the kitchen as he assumed that only his family would be inside. Upon entering the room however, Charlie found that not a single one of his siblings, aside from Bill, was in the room. Accompanying his older brother were his parents, Remus Lupin, Tonks, and Mad-Eye Moody. Thought slightly surprised to see the others, the smile didn't drop from Charlie's face, and if possible, he smiled even more broadly at the residents of the kitchen.

The group looked up as Charlie entered the room, and the wizard smiled at them, not noticing the looks of concerned etched into each one of their faces.

"Hello!" Charlie greeted brightly. He dropped his bag to the floor and walked across the room to press a kiss to his mother's cheek. "It's been awhile, yeah? Are you all staying for dinner?" He looked expectantly at the guests at table as they all stared up at him. None of them had been expecting Charlie to be back yet. They had thought they would have a few more days before his mission in Romania was over, and yet here he was. Smiling and cheerfully, and so completely ignorant to everything that had happened. Not that it was his fault of course. How was he to know that…

"Charlie!" Molly proclaimed with wide eyes. "We weren't expecting you back for another day or so. We hoped you might be with…" She trailed off as she looked desperately at the others at the table, yet Charlie took no notice of their concerned looks.

"Yeah, well Professor Dumbledore figured that if we weren't able to find any Death Eaters by now then we never would," Charlie told his Mum. He moved around the table to the over. He cracked it open a bit and peered inside, before nodding appreciatively at the food that was baking within. "He told us that is would be best for us to come home for now." He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter as he looked at the people around the table.

Moody was propped up against the wall, his arms folded atop his staff as his eye blazed madly around the room, searching every nook and cranny. Tonks sat in front of him, her hair a meek brown and her face etched with lines. Her eyes had dark bags under them and Charlie wondered for a moment if she was being overworked at the Ministry. Though she looked exhausted, her eyes were bright, although with what Charlie wasn't exactly sure, and she was glancing from person to person, although her gaze refused to stop on him or Remus. Lupin for the most part looked as he always did; slightly ragged and worn around the edges, but still the dependable Remus that he always was. The only discernible difference that Charlie could see was that his usually kind eyes were dark with something else.

Molly swallowed and toyed with the tips of her hair as she looked at her son. "Is Amy with you?" she asked, hoping that he didn't hear the tremble in her voice.

Charlie shook his head and shrugged a bit.

"No, she's not," he told her, his eyebrows furrowed together slightly. "I expect she's either at her apartment or in America with her parents."

There was a pause and then Tonks started crying. Charlie blinked at the witch as she wiped at her eyes hastily and Bill leaned over to pat her on the shoulder. While no one else in the room was crying, they all had apparent looks of concern and sadness etched into their faces. Charlie stared at Tonks for a moment before pulling his eyes off her and onto his Mum.

"Did I-Did I miss something?" He asked softly, his eyes locking onto Tonks whose eyes were now swollen and her nose red.

Molly sighed quietly before standing from her seat. She moved towards her son and placed a gentle hand on is arm. Charlie looked down at her, his forehead crinkled together and his eyes curious.

"Perhaps you should sit down," Molly told him softly. Her brown eyes were sad and she gently pulled on her son's arm so that he was sitting down before taking her seat again. She kept his hand tightly gripped in hers as she looked at him.

Charlie looked around the table at everyone there, all of whom were refusing to look at him. Instead they chose to look down at their hands or at the wood table before them, almost as though… as though they were scared of him… or scared to tell him something…

"Mum," Charlie started slowly. "What's happened?"

Molly swallowed and opened her mouth to say something but stopped. She looked frightened and sad, and Charlie's heart began to beat faster. What could possibly make his Mum nervous? She was normally the most talkative person in the world, yet now she couldn't say more than a few words to him. Charlie looked expectantly at the others but they all looked away from him except Remus who sighed and straightened himself in his chair so that he was facing Charlie from his spot at the table.

"Professor Dumbledore came by with a message a few hours ago," Lupin started slowly. He was picking his words carefully as though he was afraid the wrong word would set off a bomb. "He explained to us that he believed someone has gone missing, likely taken. He gave us this and told us that it had been found in an alleyway in Hogsmeade."

Mad-Eye stomped forward a few steps. He eyed Charlie warily as he lifted a bag up before plopping it onto the middle of the table. Charlie looked from Auror to bag. It was a normal looking bag from what he could tell, made of a grey canvas material with several pockets and zippers. Slipping his hand out from his mother's, Charlie leaned forward and grabbed the strap of the bag. He slowly pulled it closer to his seat.

Unzipping the largest pocket, Charlie folded the material back and looked into the depths of the bag. At first, all the wizard saw was articles of clothing. A shirt here, a sweater there and someone's wand tucked into the outermost pocket; it merely looked like someone's overnight bag or something of the sort, but then something caught his eye, and he reached into the bag to pull it out.

The item he drew out was a thin shirt made of a familiar jersey material, in a familiar red and gold color. The material was cool beneath his fingers and he gripped it in both hands and shook it out a bit so he could see the lettering on the shirt.

His blue eyes narrowed a bit and he cocked his head as he read the writing a few times. "This is mine," he muttered to himself as he turned the shirt around to see his number, thirteen, on the back. As he turned the material, a well-known scent of violets and pomegranates washed over him. He took a deep breath of the scent, and his eyebrows furrowed together as he looked up in confusion at those around him before settling his befuddled sights on his mother.

"Mum?" he asked softly. Molly's lip quivered a bit as she reached across the table to clasped Charlie's hand. His jersey was still wrapped in his other hand. "Whose bag is this?"

Molly cocked her head and her eyes glossed over with tears. "Professor Dumbledore thinks that it's Amy's," Molly told her son gently, her voice just above a whisper. Charlie's breath caught in his throat and his jaw clenched. His mind began to race as he looked down at the jersey in his hand. He now recognized it as one he had given Amy months ago, and there was a brief image in his mind of when Bill had appeared at his apartment during the summer. Amy had stepped out of the bedroom in this shirt and he could practically feel the blush that had appeared on their faces.

Molly continued to speak as Charlie stared at the shirt in his hand. "The end of term was on Friday, and as usual the teacher all stayed until the students had gone home," Molly explained softly. "Amy stayed later than usual and didn't leave the castle grounds until dark. Several students told the Headmaster that they remembered her going through the courtyard. She got off the grounds and into Hogsmeade, but for some reason she stopped, and someone must have grabbed her." Molly's voice shook as her words faded away and the kitchen fell into silence aside from Tonks' occasional sniffle.

Charlie sat there, his shoulder hunched over as he let his mind race back to the last time he had seen the witch. He had thought it was such a brilliant plan to surprise her after being apart for so long. He hadn't thought that pulling her into an alley would scare her, and he could still clearly remember the look of anger on her face when she turned around to hit him. He almost smiled at the memory of how much fury someone as small as her could put into a punch. She wasn't that short of course, but he did have almost six inches on her after all. For a moment, he could almost feel Amy's arms wrapped around his torso as he pulled her close to him, but that faded away as the image of her locked up somewhere, tortured and in the hands of some Dark Wizard, entered his mind.

The anger that burned up within him was reminiscent of the anger he had felt that day in Hogsmeade, after Katie Bell had been admitted to the Hospital Wing. He remembered being furious that Amy had blamed him, and herself, for what had happened to the girl. He couldn't believe that she would even try and take the blame for something which was clearly out of both of their hands. They hadn't known the student would be cursed, and it wasn't because of their date that she had been cursed. Even if Charlie hadn't stayed to see Amy, Katie probably still would have ended up in the infirmary, and nothing Amy or Charlie had done could change that.

But… if there was one thing Charlie could do, something he could do right then, it was that he would do anything to get Amy back. Anything that happened to her now he would forever blame himself. If they hadn't fought back in October… if they hadn't stopped sending letters… he might have been there to meet her and she wouldn't have been alone and vulnerable…

Yet, he couldn't think like that. He couldn't let himself be consumed by his emotions. He had to keep a clear head if he was going to get her back, and that was one thing he planned on doing. He was going to get her back.

His hand tightened into a fist over his shirt, the material scrunching between his fingers, and he looked up determinedly at those around him.

"What do we do now?"

…..

Charlie raised his hand and tapped sharply on the glass of the window before shoving his hand back into his pocket. Behind him, Bill was peering curiously around him at the front porch of the Wyman's house. The younger redhead moved his weight from one foot to the other as he waited for someone to come to the door.

Similarly to England, the winter weather had hit Chicago with a force and the snow was swirling around the two brothers. Bill had, rather reluctantly, volunteered to go with Charlie to America to see if Amy had possibly gone to stay with her family for the holidays. It was the wizard's last hope that she was safe and sound somewhere. He had already gone to her apartment and his as well only to find them empty and slightly dusty. He had contemplated also going to Hogwarts just to ensure that she was not in fact hidden out there, but he figured Dumbledore would know if the witch was anywhere within the castle grounds. Chicago was his last hope, and if she wasn't here… well, he may combust.

The inner door of the house opened and light flooded the tiny foyer that separated the apartments. Ann Wyman poked her head around the door and squinted into the dreary afternoon. Her eyes lit up brightly when they landed on Charlie and she smiled as she stepped into the entrance way to unlock the front door.

"Charlie!" she greeted brightly! "What a lovely surprise! Please come in." Charlie smiled faintly as the woman pulled the door open so that he and his brother could enter the warm home. Ann looked curiously at the taller redhead but followed the two brothers back into the house without question.

As Ann closed the door, the others in the household looked up expectantly. Alan was seated on the couch while Rose, Eric, Rich, and David were sprawled throughout the room. Ann carefully shuffled around the two brothers to take her seat next to her husband.

"You're not the pizza man," Rich stated stupidly as he sat up from his relaxed position on the floor. His eyebrows crinkled together under his fluffy curls and he pouted a bit. Rose rolled her eyes and leaned over to hit her younger brother who groaned slightly.

"Real polite, Rich," she reprimanded before turning to face Charlie. "It's nice to see you, Charlie." Her eyes went wide for a moment as a thought seemed to strike her. "Is Amy with you?" She peered around him hopefully at the figure behind him, not noticing the way that the wizard flinched. Her face dropped as she realized that the tall figure was not that of her sister.

Charlie swallowed and shook his head stiffly. "No, no she's not," he told the Wymans, his voice shaking slightly. "That's, um, why, well…" he trailed off not knowing exactly how he was supposed to phrase this question. It wasn't every day that he had to ask his girlfriend's family if she had run off to stay with them rather than being kidnapped. Bill seemed to notice his brother's struggle and stepped out of Charlie's shadow and into the light.

The family eyed the tall wizard curiously as he smiled slightly at them. "We know that it's rude to drop by unexpectedly, but we actually wanted to know if _you_ had seen Amy as of late, say within the past week or so." Ann looked at her husband before slowly turning back to the two wizards. Her forehead was furrowed together and her mouth parted in curiosity, and Charlie felt a slight pang in his chest as he realized that Amy shared the same furrow in her brow when she was thinking that her mum did too.

"No," she said slowly, her eyes jumping from Charlie to Bill. "We haven't but the winter holidays have just started so I expect that she's probably in London." Bill nodded slowly, not missing the way his brother's jaw clenched at Ann's words.

"Right," Bill said lightly. "We just thought it would be best to check if she was here before-"

"I'm sorry," Rich cut in, holding a hand up. "Who exactly are you?" He pointed at Bill who ran a hand through his long hair.

"I'm Bill Weasley," he told the man plainly. "Charlie's older brother."

"And why exactly are you and Charlie asking where our sister is?" Eric asked now, setting down the book he had been reading before the wizards' arrival. "I mean, she lives in London with all of you, so you would think we would be asking _you_ that."

Bill cleared his throat and looked over at Charlie who was staring stonily ahead at the wall. His jaw was clenched together tightly, and his hands were in fists at his side. Bill could see from his position next to his brother that his eyes were welling half with anger and half with tears as he realized that Amy was not home with her family, which only narrowed the possibility that she was safe somewhere and had not been kidnapped. Bill looked back at Amy's family who were looking expectantly at the brothers before he nudged Charlie gently in the side.

"Perhaps you should tell them," he muttered quietly, his eyes downcast. There was a moment where Charlie did nothing before he nodded stiffly and looked up from the floor slowly. He caught Ann's eye immediately and his words caught in his throat as he noted how innocent and naïve her expression was in that moment. She had no idea that he was about to turn her life upside down. None of them did.

"Amy…" Charlie trailed off for a moment before shaking his head and gathering his Gryffindor bravery and strength. He knew he would need it because the moment he said these words it was likely that the dams would break and he would break as well. "Amy's gone missing."

There was a collective gasp from the room, and the Wymans and family all sat up straight, leaning forward to stare at the wizard.

"She's what?" Alan demanded. His blue eyes were wide with distraught as the words sunk in.

Charlie took a deep breath and looked the man in the eye. "Amy's gone missing," he repeated again. Rose opened her mouth to say something but Charlie plowed on. He knew that if he didn't finish now he never would be able to. "The end of term was on Friday and she left sometime after the students, when it was dark. She was off the grounds and in the nearby village and someone grabbed her. Her bag was found in an alleyway, but there's nothing to suggest who took her or why she was taken."

"Wait, she's been _kidnapped?"_ Rose asked. Her voice was filled with disbelief. "I mean, I know she can be annoying as hell, but who would kidnap her?"

Charlie shrugged stiffly and wiped at his eyes, trying to mask the redness of his eyes. Bill cast a side glance at his brother before clearing his throat and stepping up to the interrogation plate.

"We're not sure who took but there have been some ideas thrown around," Bill told the family.

"Ideas thrown about by whom?" Rose demanded standing up so that she was facing the wizard with a fierce determination. She was probably about seven inches shorter than Bill but the look on her face was enough to make the wizard anxious. He knew she didn't have any magical abilities but the fire in her eyes was kind of terrifying, and the wizard rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"I don't know if Amy or Charlie told you about the Order of the Phoenix," Bill began. He raised an eyebrow as he waited for their response which came from Ann with a brief and stiff nod. Bill absorbed this information quickly before continuing on. "Well, it was a member of the Order who found the bag and since Amy is part of the Order-"

"She's what?" Ann broke in, staring wide eyed at the wizards.

Bill looked at Ann with equally wide eyes before over towards Charlie who was looked awkwardly at the floor. He leaned over a bit to mutter something at his brother.

"We didn't actually tell them she was part of the Order," he explained quietly and Bill nodded in understanding before looking back at Ann.

"Right, well, yes," Bill stammered. "Amy is a member of the Order which is why we decided it would be best to stop here to see if she might have come to visit rather than starting a quiet investigation of her whereabouts."

"Why don't you just go to the police or something?" Eric asked. "You must have some type of law enforcement."

"Our 'law enforcement,'" Bill explained. "Is a tad overwhelmed with the influx of Dark wizards at the moment and their job does not entitle them to deal with anyone outside of Dark wizards. Amy is not a Dark witch so they will really take no interest in her disappearance."

"But you will?" Rose asked, looking from brother to brother. Her voice shook a little as she did so and her eyes were rimmed with red. "You're going to look for her? You're going to find her?"

Charlie looked up at these words before over at his brother who eyed the dragonologist sadly. He opened his mouth to say something reassuring yet realistic but Charlie cut him off.

"Yes," he told them. He looked up and glanced from each family member with blue eyes, and the Wymans saw that even though they were filled with tears Charlie's eyes were also completely sincere and strong. "I promise to bring her back."

Bill eyed his brother warily, knowing that he shouldn't make a promise especially one that he may not be able to keep, but he said nothing. Instead, he swallowed his realistic reply and merely took in the comforted and somewhat relieved expressions on those in the room.

The room fell into silence as each person contemplated what they had just been told. Their daughter, their sister, their love was gone and there was really nothing they could do about. They weren't magical and they didn't have the knowledge to assist the wizards in anyway. They didn't know how chaotic the world within theirs was and they certainly didn't know the danger they were in every time they stepped outside their doors. And yet, here they were, two of the Weasleys, delivering them bad news accompanied with possible false hope, similar to the false cheeriness that the Christmas lights around the room seemed to emit.

Bill coughed gruffly and looked over at Charlie. "We should probably be leaving," he told the room. "We're expected back."

Ann sniffed and wiped at her nose before standing up wobbly. "I'll show you out," she told the wizards, looking up at them with wet eyes. Bill turned and gestured for her to go first. He nodded at the family who was still sitting there quietly before following the woman out the door. Charlie paused a moment longer and looked from each family member before his eyes landed on Alan. The man looked Charlie very seriously in the eye and Charlie stared back unflinchingly. Several moments passed and in those moments the wizard clearly understood what the father was trying to get across to him. Through a mere look, Alan was telling him that whatever happened to Amy was on his hands. Any blood that was shed, any tears that were cried were because of whatever happened next.

Eventually, Charlie looked away from Alan, and with a fleeting wave at the others in the room, he followed his brother out into the cold. Bill was standing on the porch while Ann stood in the doorway, no words passing between them as the snow swirled around them. Charlie stopped just at the door frame and looked down at the mother of his girlfriend. Ann in return looked woefully up at him and shrugged slightly.

"I'm sorry to tell you all this just before the holidays," Charlie told her softly. "It's rough and I'm sorry to have to burden you with it as well."

"It's not a burden," Ann told the wizard suddenly. She looked a bit surprised to hear the wizard say the word and she cocked her head a bit. "Amy's wellbeing certainly isn't a burden to us. We may not show it all the time, or maybe we just have a funny way of showing it, but we love her. She's so incredibly different than us and she thinks in such extraordinary ways but that doesn't make her any less of a Wyman. She's my daughter and I'm so…" She paused and took a deep breath. "I'm so incredibly proud of her and everything she's done, even the things that I don't understand. _Especially_ the things that I don't understand.

"Which is why you have to bring her home," Ann ordered, and Charlie looked thoughtfully at the woman. "She deserves to know just how proud we are of her and how much we love her. She's out daughter, and even though she is a witch, she's our witch." Charlie smiled a bit at that, although he wasn't exactly sure how he felt about having to share Amy with seven other people.

Ann swallowed before stepping forward to embrace Charlie tightly.

"Find her," she whispered. "She's our daughter and we need her."

…..

Thousands of miles away, in an abandoned, run-down house Amy screamed out in agony as wave after wave of pain washed over her in a never ceasing flow. Her head was thrown back and her hair was wild as scream after scream poured from her mouth. Her breathing was incredibly ragged, her face streaked with dirt and tears, and all the witch could do was scream as the intensity of the curse forced upon her burned within her.

She had awoken upon the cold floor of a cellar sometime earlier. She couldn't be sure exactly when or how much time had passed since she had been in Hogsmeade for the cellar had no windows and the only light that glinted through the room was that from the torturers wands and masks. Amy had sat in the darkness for several hours after awakening, or so she presumed. She had attempted to find a way out in the beginning, first by searching every inch of the room for a crack or opening and then by trying to claw her way through the cement and dirt. She had stopped only after the skin on her fingers had torn and begun to burn and had finally slumped against the wall in exhaustion as she let the cold of the room wash over her. There was little she could do but wait, and she didn't have to wait long before several figures made their way into the dingy basement.

Amy had staggered to her feet and attempted to glare defiantly at the wizards who swarmed around her, but her biting words and cold front only seemed to urge them to taunt her more as the circled around her, their hands twitching over their wands in hungry anticipation. They had all stood around for ten minutes or so and for a few brief moments, Amy thought that it was all a joke, a haze of some sort, but those thoughts were dashed away as one final wizard entered the room. The witch had eyed him carefully as he made his way through the circle and she thought for a moment that he was just another wizard, just another person there to scare her, but as he spoke her blood went cold and she realized this was no joke at all.

He smiled at her, pleasantly, gleefully and that was the last thing Amy really saw before the wands turned on her, all at once. She endured the curses of ten grown wizards for several minutes, thrashing and screaming as the painful fire course through her veins. Eventually, one or two of the wizards backed off, followed by the others until only one wizard remained, the one who had smiled and turned the wand on her first. He backed off the curse eventually but barely a second passed before a new curse was inflicted on her and her screams began again.

For hours, Amy was exposed to the mad curses of these madmen and she could do nothing but scream and cry, all hope at retaining her pride and dignity gone. At the end of the first day, it was only as her body went lax and her eyes rolled into her head as she fell into unconsciousness that the wizards backed off for good.

"We shouldn't wear the princess completely out on the first day, should we now?" the one who smiled sneered at his comrades who laughed in return. The Dark Wizard knelt down next to the nearly unconscious witch and brushed away a strand of her hair gently, smirking as she flinched at the slight touch, her muscles quivering and shaking as the pain of her torture still racked her body.

"Isn't that right, princess?" Avery asked the witch. Amy's eyes gazed over his face just once before they glassed over and she went limp against the cold floor. The first day of her pain was complete, but they all knew there would be more to come.

For pain can last a lifetime if you let it, and the Death Eaters certainly weren't going to stop it.

…..

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Gasp! Oh no! What do we do?!

Blargh... well, what a lovely surprise from the Wyman family. I thank them for taking the time to come and pop in my story! And thank you Ann. Your "she's our daughter" remark is slightly (not really) reminiscent of the Dudley redemption scene, so... thanks?

You know what would get an even BIGGER thanks? A review... I love reviews... No joke.

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	53. Chapter 52

**AN: **Hello lovely readers, and welcome back to another episode of... AMY WYMAN AND THE TROUBLES SHE FACES WITH DEATH AND DANGER EVEN THOUGH SHE IS A TEACHER... Yeah.. it's late...ignore the crazy... Anyway, I'm going to throw this out there, and it's likely not even true, but I may not be updating for a while, because I am (unfortunately) back in school, and already, on the seventh day of school, I am failing a class. I've never failed a class, ever, so kinda panicking right now, and so, I feel I should be studying like crazy and doing everything I can to get that grade back up. But because I'm weird, my panicking means that I'm stressed, and when I'm stressed, I write. So, even though I shouldn't be updating I probably will be. Enjoy my lapse in judgement.

**Dedication:** To my Daddy! Happy Birthday! Love you lots!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing you recognize.

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><p>Amy sat against the wall of the cellar, her back rigid as she defiantly faced the cellar steps. She had her arms wrapped around her shaking torso as the cold of winter seeped into her bones. She knew she was weak, and she knew she was tired, but she sure as hell wasn't going to fall asleep when one of those… those…<em>madmen<em> could come back at any minute.

Wind howled above her, shaking and rattling the house she was under and she looked worriedly up at the ceiling for a moment, wondering if it would simply be better if the roof came crashing down on her so she could get the hell out of there, when the door to the cellar opened.

The witch immediately looked to the figure at the top of the stairs, and her grip around her chest tightened desperately. A blinding, bright light shone down from the house above, shadowing whoever it was that was standing in the doorframe. The figure was tall and his shoulders broad, and for a faint moment the witch could have sworn there was a gleam of red in his hair…

Unlike all the others who had ever descended the steps, this man rushed down the rickety staircase into the cellar, taking two steps at a time. From the light above, Amy could see that he held a wand in his hand, and a twinge of fear coursed through her and she shut her eyes as she waited for her next torturer to come upon her.

She sat there, her back pressed against the wall, her hands gripping at the sides of her torso with her nails piercing through her now thin clothing, and she prayed. She prayed to whatever the hell was out there to save her. To get her out of there before she had to endure the pain of another madma-

The figure was in front of her now. She could feel it. His heat was radiating off his body and her body leaned forward involuntarily to try and soak up the warmth. Through her shut eyelids, she saw the figure crouch slowly in front of her and she flinched, receding back slightly, hoping to find a way to escape from his sights, trying to find a way to-

"Amy," the figure breathed. "Oh Merlin, Amy." The witch's eyebrows furrowed together at the sound of the wizard's voice. It was low and soothing, but at the same time, there was something in it that set this particular man apart from all the others that she had been forced to see in the cellar.

Slowly and carefully, as though she were afraid she would be cursed – which who was she kidding, it was incredibly likely – and opened her eyes. It took her a second to grow accustomed to the light which was in the previously dark cellar and then her eyes met that of the blue-eyed wizard, and her breath caught in her throat, emitting a choking sound. She felt her heart race slightly, and her face scrunched together as she felt tears prickle at her eyes.

"C-Charlie?" Amy croaked, her voice hoarse and weak from the days of screaming and crying. Her eyes filled with tears of disbelief and happiness as Charlie nodded quickly before leaning forward to pry the witch off the wall and into his arms. She let out a sob of relief as his arms wound their way around her and he buried his face into the crook of her neck. Ignoring the pain, the witch weakly raised her hands to wrap them around his neck, keeping him close to her as she tried to convince herself this was real, that Charlie was actually there with her. Underneath her frail hands, the witch felt Charlie's shoulders shake as his body was racked with sobs of his own, and Amy shut her eyes and pressed the bridge of her nose against his collarbone and breathe in his scent. Strangely, the witch was not met by the woodsy smell that was Charlie but instead was overwhelmed the smell of wet clothing as though he had been standing in the rain or in a damp, cold cellar for years. Amy however couldn't force herself to care and instead she focused on the fact that she was safely in Charlie's arms. She would be going home. Home to Hogwarts, to her apartment, to Charlie…

The wizard pulled away after a few more minutes, wiping hastily at his eyes which were swollen from the crying before he leaned in again to press a kiss to the witch's lips. His lips moved passionately over hers and she groaned, half at the pain that coursed through her and half from the feeling of his lips against hers once more. It had been far too long, and this felt far too right.

Charlie eventually pulled away, albeit reluctantly, and looked the witch in the eye.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you, how scared I was," he confessed. "I thought I'd never see you again." He raised a hand to brush away a strand of her hair, and the witch leaned into his touch, ignoring the fact that his hand was incredibly cold as though he had been outside or in a cold basement for some time.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again either," she admitted, and her voice caught roughly in her throat, and the witch let out a series of hacking coughs. Charlie's forehead furrowed in concern as she coughed and he looked her over, taking in the cold sweat that coated her body, the dirt that streaked her grey, pale skin, and the numerous bruises and cuts.

"We need to get you out of here," Charlie told her firmly, his eyes roaming over her face. "I need to get you somewhere warm and safe." He straightened up carefully, and his hands were clasped tightly in Amy's

"I'm always warm and safe when I'm with you," Amy told him wearily as he pulled her up from the cold floor and into a standing position. The witch hissed at the pressure that was placed on her aching muscles and she swayed woozily for several seconds. Charlie eyed the witch nervously as she attempted to take a few steps towards the staircase only to stumble and almost fall. Immediately, Charlie's hands moved to her waist and he gripped her hips in his hands to steady her.

She straightened up again and made to take another step but Charlie had already decided that she wouldn't make it a few steps never mind an entire staircase and the walk through the house above. Instead, the wizard looped one arm around the witch's waist and the other under her knees so he could scoop her into his arms. The witch started to protest but stopped as the rush in her head faded away and the ache in her muscles receded as well. Quietly, the witch eased back into Charlie's arms and wrapped her arms around Charlie's neck to secure herself. With her face pressed against his chest, she looked up at him with wide eyes.

"I love you so much," she told the wizard as he began to make his way to the steps.

Charlie looked down and smiled softly at the witch.

"I love yo-"

…..

The creaking of the basement door pulled Amy out of her, for once, peaceful sleep, and she gathered the strength to open her eyes. She groaned under her breath as she realized it was all a dream, that Charlie wasn't actually there to save her, and she huddled against the cool wall of the cellar, shivering as the actual cold, winter air seeped through her torn and ragged clothes. The warm jacket that she had been wearing the night she had left the castle was long gone and the witch was now left in tattered leggings and a baggy, soiled top. Her eyes watered as she remembered her dream and for a moment she could almost feel Charlie's arms around her while his body heat warmed her to the core. These thoughts were pushed from her mind as her muscles shook in pain as she lifted her head to peer at the figure that was slowly descending the steps towards her.

It was a common occurrence for there to be others in the basement with her, but most of the time, they had their wands turned on her with spells being cast upon her relentlessly. Amy didn't know how long she had been in the basement, shivering and shaking from cold and pain, but she did know that it felt like a lifetime. Several lifetimes in fact.

The witch ducked her head as the Death Eater approached her slowly, a swagger in his step as though he was a predator after prey. The wizard flicked his wrist and a small light lit up the room, efficiently blinding Amy as he knelt down next to her. Amy looked blearily up at him and was just able to make out the leering face of Avery in the dim light of the wand. Involuntarily, the witch shrunk back, ignoring the painful quivers in her muscles as she did so.

"Hello, princess," Avery greeted jovially, smiling a cruel, simpering smile. "Enjoying yourself down here?"

It took all of Amy's strength to glare at the wizard with as much contempt as she could muster, and the wizard chuckled at her weak attempt. She flinched as he raised a hand to brush away a strand of her now dingy hair. He stroked her matted hair for a moment, as though she was a dog before he gripped her jaw in his calloused fingertips, keeping her eyes on his.

"Still trying to look brave, princess?" He asked, shifting down so that he had a knee pressed painfully on top of her leg. She winced at the pressure he placed on her body but still attempted to look glaringly up at him. "I think we've already proven that there's not a single trace of bravery in you, what with the screaming and crying like a baby. If you need a refresher though…" He trailed off as though waiting for her answer, but the witch knew what would come next, and she wasn't disappointed, as he turned his once bright wand on her and the ripples of agony soared through her body at lightening speeds. She could practically feel her muscles and organs shredding apart within her and it felt as though lava ran through her veins, and she couldn't stop herself from falling away from the wall and onto the floor where she began to wither and thrash about.

During her time in the cellar, Amy had experienced the cruelty of several Death Eaters' Cruciatus Curses, but Avery's was always different. His was always stronger, no matter the time of day or how long he had been using his power; his curses always hurt the most. Amy gathered that all of her torturers took pleasure out of what they were doing to her, but Amy suspected – correction: _knew_ – that Avery was the most pleased by her vulnerable standing. He didn't just take pleasure out of her pain, he thought of this as some twisted vengeance for the simple fact that she had defied him, twice before, and survived. He hated her for being a Muggleborn and for her loyalty to Dumbledore and the Order, but that wasn't the reason her was doing this. No, he tortured her the way he did, with a vindictive smile stretched across his face and laughter escaping from his throat simply because he had something to prove. She had fought against him before and survived, which in his book likely meant that she had won, and that was obviously something Avery couldn't handle. Hence, he took his anger and embarrassment for having been beat by a Mudblood out on her, forcing her to feel the sting that he believed he felt. He would kill her eventually, which had always been in his plans, but first he would make her suffer. Make her feel the anger he had coursing through his veins for the simple fact that she was alive.

He pulled back for a moment, and Amy fell forward so that she was laying half on her side and half on her front as she heaved against the floor. She wished desperately to be able to cry, to feel something other than the horrific pains that were coursing through her, but she had cried all of her tears and there were none left for her to cry. Instead, she heaved and choked and panted against the dirty, rocky floor.

Avery cocked his head to the side and watched as the witch clawed at the floor, obviously still feeling the aftereffects of his curse racking her body. She whimpered as her fingers were torn open again by the rough floor and she retracted her arms to her chest where she eventually fell motionless except for the heaving, dry sobs that still racked her slight frame. She hadn't eaten or had anything to drink in days, and it was beginning to show beneath her ragged clothes.

From his crouched position, the wizard shuffled forward a bit, pressing his knee into the cool gravel. He slowly leaned down, his mouth so near to her ear that she could feel and smell his sour breath.

"I'm going to kill you, princess," he breathed. "I'm going to kill you, and there's nothing anyone can do to stop me. You're powerless and weak, and it's not surprising at all. You are a Mudblood." Amy shut her eyes at his words, trying to block out what he was saying, but instead, the witch's mind began to brew different images of her body, mangled and torn, burnt and decaying, perhaps left to rot away in this basement or maybe left somewhere so that she could be a message, a warning to all others, that when you fight, when you're strong and dedicated and loyal, they can still get you.

Avery trailed his hand over the witch's face, softly, gently, almost as though he were her lover, and he slowly traced over one of the cuts on her face, ignoring her flinch at the sting. "I can't wait to cast that spell. I can't wait to watch as the life leaves your eyes and your heart stops beating beneath your chest." He trailed his hand down her face and to the rip neckline of her shirt. Without a pause, he slipped his hand under her shirt and pressed his hand against her chest, right above her heart. He pressed down slightly so that his nails pierced her clammy, slick skin, and she jumped slightly at the pinch. He withdrew his hand teasingly and now moved it so that he was gripping her wrist tightly in his hand.

"It'll be glorious the way your blood will slowly run from your body," he murmured, and Amy was reminded once more that she was in the hands of a madman, a psychopath. "But what'll be even more glorious, is seeing the look on the Blood-Traitor's face when he finds out he's too late." Amy's eyes flew open and she moved her head ever so slightly so she could catch Avery's eye as he smirked at her. "Oh yes, Muggle-Lover Weasley, what a waste of perfectly good pure blood, but he will learn and so will the others. All they need is to see your life-less form, cut and torn, bruised and battered and they will fall to their knees begging for mercy from the Dark Lord, I promise you that, princess."

He paused in his monologue as he looked down her body, and the pale skin of her rather unharmed leg peeked out from the torn cloth around it. Though bruised and slightly cut, it was mostly untouched, pale and clammy, but still unmarred, and a thought flickered in the Death Eater's mind and along with it came a smile.

"But before that," he breathed, "the Mudblood Whore deserves her brand does she not. Even the dead one." Amy looked on in fear as he reached into his robes and withdrew glinting silver. His smile grew even wider, even crueler as he leaned over the flesh of her thigh.

Her screams had never been so loud.

…..

"Enough!"

Charlie slammed his hands against the table, and the room fell silent as the Order members all turned to look at him. His normally kind eyes were filled with a bright fire as he glared stonily at the table and his jaw was clenched tightly together. A few of the others exchanged looks between each other, waiting for him to say something, but the wizard surprised them instead and pushed himself up. He spared no glance around the room before turning on his heel and exiting the room as quickly as possible. He paid no attention to Ron, Ginny, and Harry who all looked up at him as he brushed passed them in the front room as he marched out of the house, not even bothering to grab a coat as he did so.

The second the cool air touched his skin, the fire within him slowly ebbed away and the once rigid, infuriated wizard slumped, his shoulders falling forward and his face dropping into a devastated expression.

It had been three days since Charlie had found out Amy had been kidnapped, which means it had been six days since the actual kidnapping had occurred. Every day the Order members had been meeting up at the Burrow, exchanging known Death Eater camps and hideouts, but whenever the members thought they had the slightest bit of a lead, the ended up facing a brick wall with nowhere to go. It was frustrating and tonight had simply been too much for the wizard to handle. It seemed as though everyone was becoming flustered and they weren't thinking clearly. None of their ideas made sense and half of them had no real evidence to support that Amy may actually be there. They had no idea where she was, who took, or what was happening to her at any given second of the day. And while Charlie hated to think it, there was a great likelihood that the witch… that she could be dead somewhere and that thought choked Charlie up every time it ran through his mind.

That was partially the reason the wizard had stormed out of the toasty kitchen and into the frosty night. Moody, with all his pessimistic (yet realistic) views, had brought up the idea that perhaps it would be better for them to focus more on finding a new Death Eater camp than on searching for Amy's body. _Body_. That was the term the Auror decided to use in front of them. Clearly, Mad-Eye assumed that finding Amy alive was a waste of time and it would be better to take advantage of her kidnapping and hunt down more of You-Know-Who's followers. The man had not taken into consideration that one of Amy's best friends, Tonks, and Amy's boyfriend was in the room at the time. Even the idea of Amy hurt or alone in some dark, lonely place was enough to bring stinging tears to Charlie's eyes and he supposed that Mad-Eye's harsh, possible reality was too much for him to handle.

Of course, it didn't make it any easier that today, this winter, snowy night, marked that Charlie and Amy had been together for a year. Somehow, Charlie hadn't thought that this day would go exactly like this. He had thought about a dinner, fancy or homemade he didn't know, or sitting with Amy wrapped in his arms or anything with his witch really. Most of all, he had thought she would actually be there with him.

With a sigh, the wizard made his way off the porch and slowly trudged through the snow ridden tracks around the house. It was snowing and freezing but Charlie couldn't care less. All he could think about now was the possibility that Amy may be…dead. He had been telling himself over and over that she was alive somewhere, that she had to be out there, scared, but alive. Now however, his thoughts were being infiltrated by images of Amy's lifeless form.

Merlin, he wished he had been there. He wished he hadn't fought with her and that he hadn't been in Romania. He could have been there to meet her, he could have walked with her, gone home with her, and he could have been there for her. He _should_ have been there for her.

Behind him, Charlie heard footsteps crunch in the snow, but he didn't turn around to see who was following him. The Burrow was under protection and only those who knew the location of the Burrow could actually be on the grounds, so he assumed that it must be one of his siblings or a member of the Order.

Charlie was proven right as a head of Weasley red hair bloomed out of the white night and trees. The wizard glanced momentarily at the hair before facing forward again as he leaned against a nearby, knobby tree. He stayed quiet as Bill did the same, finding a place against a tree of his own just a few feet away.

No words passed between the two for several minutes, as they watched the snow fall around them. After a moment, Charlie heaved a sigh and let his head fall back to hit the bark of the tree with a thud. He saw Bill look over at him from his own tree and adjust himself so that he was facing his younger brother.

"We're going to find her, you know," Bill started quietly. He toed the snowy ground under his boots as he watched his brother's slumped form against the tree. "You can't give up just yet."

Charlie's jaw clenched, and he swallowed heavily. "How can I not?" he choked out. "You heard what Mad-Eye said. He's not concerned about finding her, but finding her _body._"

"Mad-Eye's just that," Bill protested, crunching his way through the snow towards his brother. "He's mad. He doesn't know what he's saying half the time and what he does say is always some form of a conspiracy. He's paranoid and chooses to focus on the negative outcomes."

"Just because they're negative doesn't mean they're not realistic," Charlie shot back, tears welling up in his eyes. He looked up at his brother, not caring that he was completely vulnerable in that moment. If he couldn't be honest with his big brother, if he couldn't share his fears, then who could he share them with? It wasn't like Amy was there for him to mull his feelings over with.

"And the positive outcomes are just as realistic," Bill countered. "We know who Amy is. We know that she wouldn't give up. Not on her life, or fighting, and certainly not on you. She's going to fight, with all she's got, you must know that."

Charlie breathed, a strangled half sob stuck in his throat. "Of course I know she would fight," Charlie said. "But with what she's up against that doesn't mean she would live." A few tears washed down his cheek and Bill didn't know what to say. Charlie had always been the one brother he could count on to have a positive outlook on everything. It seemed as though he was always happy, like he always had something to smile about and now… now it was like he was a completely different wizard.

Bill supposed love could do that to a person.

Silence fell between the two again, and they listened for a moment to the wind whistling through the snow-laden trees. Charlie breathed heavily as he tried to regain his thoughts and calm the fire burning within him. He hated himself for thinking all these terrible thoughts but at the same time, he couldn't help it. Not after Moody had poisoned his mind with the thoughts of Amy lying dead somewhere.

"It's been a year," Charlie stated, breaking the silence after five minutes or so. Bill looked at him curiously, his pony tail swinging over his shoulder. The faintest of smiles crossed his face as he looked over at his brother. "It's been a year since we got together. She showed up at my apartment in the middle of the night. It was after a mission that Dumbledore had sent her on." He let out a breathy laugh and Bill cocked his head at him.

"She showed up at my doorstep, sopping wet, snow still in her hair, and covered in bruises, but she was so calm about it all," he explained. "It was like she didn't even know that she had bruises left, right, and center. She basically jumped me the second I opened the door, didn't even give me a chance to really ask any questions or figure out what she was doing there. It was the first time I had seen her in almost half a year, and then suddenly she's on my doorstep telling me that she had feelings for me, that we should have been together from the moment we kissed."

Bill laughed quietly. "Sounds like Amy," he chuckled, quickly storing this story away in his mind. Charlie had never really explained how the two had gotten together, only that they had been together since their dad had ended up in the hospital.

"She's one of a kind, after all," Charlie muttered, running a hand through his now damp hair. He paused, his thoughts trailing away from the night Amy had come to his home. "I miss her," he admitted quietly. Bill looked at his brother, his mouth pursed together forlornly.

"I know," he told him. He stepped forward and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder consolingly. "We'll find her. We promised we'd find her, and we will."

Charlie opened his mouth to say something but was cut off as someone came running through the trees towards the two Weasleys. The redheads turned and watched as Tonks skidded to a halt in front of them, grabbing onto the bark of a tree to steady her. They watched as she breathed heavily for a few minutes, her eyes wide and her hair slightly brighter than when they had left the kitchen.

She finally righted herself and looked at the oldest Weasley kids, her eyes shining for the first time in days without tears.

"We have a new lead," she panted. She looked at Charlie, her eyes hopefully. "They think it's real. They really think this time it's real."

…..

Avery pushed himself up into a standing position, his eyes uncaring as he wiped his bloodied dagger on the cloth of his pants. He looked disdainfully down at Amy, who was sprawled out on the cellar floor. Her face was incredibly pale, the palest it had ever been, and tear tracks were stained into her face. Her eyes were opened wide as she stared at the ceiling above her, no emotion in her eyes and her lips parted with heavy breaths.

Avery smirked down at her. "Must go, princess," he told her loftily, looking at the hands which were coated in blood, her blood. He tsked in irritation at the thought of her blood underneath his nails, and he began to pick at them. "Until next time."

Amy said nothing as the wizard made his way up the creaky stairs. All she could focus on, all she could comprehend was the burning ache in her thigh and the feel of blood trickling down onto the cellar floor. She could almost feel Avery's knife carving into her flesh as he dug one word into her skin.

_Mudblood._

…..

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> I hope I tricked you at the beginning there... thought that would be evil of me, so I hope it was. Actually, I hope this entire chapter was evil. I'm not really an evil writer, so I hope this chapter changes that a bit... I also thought that the whole Mudblood in leg thing would be interesting, and I know it happens to Hermione in the movie, but who's to say that it didn't happen to more than one Muggleborn? Even if Avery is not the deranged but infamously loved Bellatrix Lestrange...

Hope you enjoyed it and don't forget to review! I got a lot of wonderful reviews last time, and I'm so grateful for them all! Particularly the one that told me I sucked for the cliffies... You are all welcome, and I'm glad I made you feel all the feelings.

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	54. Chapter 53

**AN**: Hello again! First of all, thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews! I swear, nothing brightens my day more than the little ding on my iPod telling me that someone has something to say about my stories (although watching Once Upon a Time is pretty dang close... Charming...mmmm)! It really is amazing, and second, are you guys ready? Are you?

I don't think you are, but here's the next chapter anyway.

**Dedication:** Happy Birthday to my best Starkid buddeh! You. Are. SUPERMEGAFOXYAWESOMEHOT.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing you recognize.

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><p>"What do you mean I can't go with you?" Charlie demanded. His fists were clenched together tightly and he was surprised that his fingernails didn't cut through his skin. Molly looked anxiously at her husband before at her husband who had a determined look on his face.<p>

The room was crowded with the other Order members who were all poring over the plans for the evening. Charlie stood off to the side with his parents, both of whom were attempting to convince him that it would not be a good idea to have him accompany the others on their search for Amy. They believed that he wouldn't be able to focus on keeping to their carefully laid out plans and that the moment they arrived, he would break away and search for Amy. They thought, and it seemed as though the others agreed, that his feelings would overwhelm him and possible set the plans astray.

Arthur sighed quietly. "Charlie, do you really think you'll be able to focus?" he asked, adjusting his crooked glasses. "You've been all over the place the last few days, do you think you'll be able to keep your emotions in check without compromising the mission? We have the chance to apprehend so many criminals and we can't take the chance of them slipping away."

"This isn't a mission capture Death Eaters," Charlie snarled, not caring that his voice was so cold towards his loving parents. "It's about finding Amy and bringing her home, and there's no way in hell I'm letting you do that without me."

"Charlie," Molly said softly, not taking her son's cold voice to heart. "I know Amy's important to you, but-"

"Mum," Charlie broke in, his voice cracking slightly with the emotion that flooded his body. "She's the _most_ important thing to me, and not only that but I promised her family I would find her, and I'm not going back on that."

Moody coughed gruffly and stumped his way over to the trio. "We're not taking you with," Mad-Eye said firmly, taking the situation into his own gnarled hands. "We can't trust that you won't fall out of line, and we need our most dependable people on this mission."

"What about your fastest?" Charlie asked, his blue eyes flashing. "The one with best reflexes? I was the best seeker while at Hogwarts, and you don't get that title by not being quick, and my reflexes have only gotten better since then. It happens when you're around fire-breathing, monstrous creatures all day."

"You also lose sense of yourself when your emotions are all over the place," Mad-Eye argued. "And that includes whatever skills you have."

"Oh come on, Mad-Eye," Tonks broke in from across the table. Everyone's eyes fell on the witch, whose hair was still a mousy brown. She was still rather pale, but there was a slight flush of excitement in her cheeks. "Charlie's right. He's one of our best and it wouldn't be right to leave him behind." She smiled faintly at her old classmate.

"I'll keep an eye on him," she promised firmly. The witch looked Moody in the eye, and something flashed in her eyes as though she was daring him to argue against her.

Moody clenched his jaw and looked from the determined Tonks to the eager Charlie. He clicked his tongue in irritation before pointing a stern finger at the youngest Auror. "Fine," he agreed finally, "but he's your responsibility. If he so much as sets a toe out of line, he's back here in a moment, agreed?"

"I'm not a child," Charlie muttered, but his protests went unheard as Tonks smiled brightly and innocently at her mentor.

"Agreed," she answered cheerfully, and for a moment, a streak of pink raced through her hair, but it was quickly drowned out by her old brown as she turned to look at the group assembled in the kitchen.

Now that Charlie had officially joined them, there were six Order members, bundled up and ready to go. Kingsley and Lupin were settled off to the side, quiet as they surveyed the others around them, and Charlie was sure their minds were racing as the thought over every spell they knew, just in case. Mad-Eye and Tonks would of course also be going along with the group, as would Arthur. Bill had planned to accompany the group as well, but after much consideration (as well as nagging from his mother and fiancé) the wizard had decided it would be best to stay behind and wait up for the others to return. It didn't help that Molly was in a full-fledged panic mode, complete with spontaneous rounds of weeping, although that could also be related to the Percy Weasley-related events of the Christmas dinner the night before.

Since the return of Voldemort, Percy had turned his back on the family, basically disowning himself and refusing to speak to any of them, only to return on Christmas Day with the Minister in tow. Charlie hadn't thought much about it at the time, as his thoughts were focused on the mission to save Amy that had been in the works, but Molly had immediately thrown any concern for the Charms teacher to the wind the second her son had stepped through the door. Anyone could tell that he hadn't come voluntarily, but Molly ignored his blatant distaste and awkwardness.

Of course, Percy didn't stay long thanks to the handiwork of Ginny and the Twins, but those few minutes in which Molly had her son back only to lose him again had set the witch off the edge. It seemed as though the Weasley Mother was now prone to sob at the drop of the pin, and it was probably best that she not be left alone, hence Bill's reasoning to stay behind.

"Now that we have that sorted out," Moody started gruffly, "we best head out. We want to surprise them and you can never be too careful. They may know we're coming so remember-"

"Constant vigilance," those in the room quoted blandly. They had heard this spiel one too many times. Moody glared violently at them before grabbing his staff and stomping back towards the door out of the Burrow.

The others also made their way towards the back door, careful so as to not make too much noise; the other Weasley kids and guests were asleep upstairs and it would be best not to disturb them. Charlie trailed after the others, anxious to get out of the house but at the same time, cautious so as not to upset Moody who would likely ban him from the mission if he stepped too loudly. Charlie stopped thought as his Mum shuffled across the wood floor to the door, her eyes wide and filled to the brim with concern for her second oldest son. Bill stood off to the side, watching his mother and brother carefully but not saying anything. Fleur also stood awkwardly to the side, but she made sure to stay in the shadows so as to hide herself and stay out of the family moment.

"Charlie," Molly began softly, her eyes wide and pleading. "Please, you don't have to go." She reached out and gripped his hand tightly in her weathered one. "They can do this without you."

Charlie's heart clenched together something terrible at his mother's begging inflection. He felt his resolve start to crack and he almost gave into his mother's perfected puppy-dog eyes, when his father popped his head back through the door. The wizard looked around before spying Charlie over his glasses.

"Charlie, are you coming or…" the father trailed off, looking between his wife and son. He noted the desperate look in Molly's eyes as well as the torn expression spread across Charlie's. Slowly, Arthur readjusted himself around the frame of the door, so you could only see the edge of his shoulder while he waited for his son's answer. He didn't want Charlie to go, but he understood why he was so adamant about going with them.

Charlie in turn swallowed tightly and glanced from his mother's woeful eyes to the edge of his father's shoulder. He totally understood his mother's need for him to stay behind with her, someplace where she could ensure he was safe and sound, but at the same time, the wizard knew he would go stir-crazy sitting around while knowing his friends and family were fighting for the love of _his _life. It had pained him long enough to sit around and do nothing since he had learned of her disappearance and he didn't think he could handle sitting back now when she was just within their grasp.

The dragonologist sighed and looked down at his mother with guilty eyes. Molly's own big browns welled up with tears as she recognized the look in her son's eyes and she opened her mouth to say something, anything to change his mind, but the wizard gripped her tightly before turning away and heading towards his father who was waiting for him expectantly.

He paused in the doorframe and glanced back briefly.

"Bye Mum," he said softly. His eyes were downcast and he glanced briefly back at the rest of his family before exiting the kitchen, his father in tow. The other Order members were waiting just outside the gates of the Burrow, with Mad-Eye at the front. He cleared his throat gruffly as the father-son duo made their way towards them.

"About time," the crazed Auror grunted. "What were you doing? Having a tea party?"

Arthur rolled his eyes at the man as he adjusted his weathered but warm robes. "We're here now," he told him simply. "So we best be off, yes?"

Moody grunted in reply, and the others all took this to mean that he agreed with the father. Mad-Eye stamped his staff a few times, and the others drew their wands from the depths of their pockets. They looked expectantly towards their 'leader' as his mad blue eye whizzed about.

"You all know the destination," he said gruffly. "Don't get lost and don't do anything rash before we're all there." He looked pointedly at Charlie who glared back at him. Charlie knew Mad-Eye didn't want him on the mission, but that sure as hell wasn't going to stop him.

"On the count of three," Mad-Eye started.

Charlie looked back toward the Burrow in the distance, and in the warm glow of the house he could see his mother and Bill silhouetted in the light of the kitchen. The taller figure has an arm wrapped around his Mum's shoulder comfortingly. It was the last thing Charlie saw before he Apparated into the night, his mind quickly switching from family to Amy.

'_We're coming for you, love.'_

…..

The witch shivered desperately and fought to keep her eyes open for just a minute more, and then a minute after that, and after that…She had been in the basement far too long, and it had been far too long since the last visit from one of the Dark Wizards. She wasn't complaining of course; a day without a Death Eater in the basement meant a day without torture, a day with limited pain. However, it also meant that the witch was left alone with her thoughts, starving and thirsty, sometimes freezing and sometimes burning. The entire length of her body was covered in bruises and cuts, and from the looks of most of them, her body was quickly becoming sick with infection, an infection to which her body was slowly succumbing. If Avery didn't kill her, the infection surely would, and she sincerely hoped that it would happen soon. She hated waking up, day after day, cold and shivering, while her stomach growled angrily for food. She hated how she flinched every time the ceiling creaked and how the faint skittering of rats in the corner reminded her of her nails scratching against the floor in pain.

Amy could tell that she wouldn't last much longer, not without food or water or some sort of medical attention, and the time spent alone in the basement only graced the witch with the opportunity to think back on her life, on all the things that she regretted doing and the things she regretted not doing. She regretted fighting with her parents during her teen years and how she had never really reconciled with them, deciding only to live as through nothing had changed since she was a kid. She regretted not spending as much time with her friends as a teen because she was too focused with her studies. Most of all, she regretted fighting with Charlie and keeping their relationship a secret for so long, and she regretted not trying to make things right with the Weasley like she should have.

Her thoughts grew hazy as she felt her fever course through her veins and the slightest movements made her nauseous as though she had been spun around incessantly for hours on end. Her leg in particular seemed to burn furiously, and Amy suspected that the open letters in her skin were now crawling with infection. It wasn't surprising seeing as her living arrangements weren't the slightest bit clean.

The witch's eyes dropped dangerously before shooting wide open as the door to the basement sung open. Amy tried to right herself so as to give the appearance of her being someone with some ounce of strength but her body moaned and screamed in protests, and she slumped against the cool wall of the cellar. As suspected, Avery descended the stairs at a leisurely pace, knowing that his slow steps were toying with the last bit of energy Amy had left.

The wizard paused at the bottom step and pressed his weight into the banister. He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked at the witch who was shaking uncontrollably against the wall. Silence settled around the two for several minutes as Amy attempted to muster up some energy to glare at her captor but the days of starvation and dehydration were forcing her body to succumb to its own weakness.

"Well, princess," Avery finally started, his eyes gleaming in the light of his wand. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Time for you to get a watch?" Amy spat in a croaking voice. Avery's eye twitched in annoyance at the witch's taunt but he allowed a sneer to cross his face.

"Yes," he remarked with disdain. "Enjoy your quip. It's your last after all."

Amy's heart clenched tightly at his words and she was sure that panic shot across her face, but she swallowed and tried to compose herself before the Death Eater saw. Alas, her weakness was getting the best of her and Avery saw the emotion flit across her face. He smiled at her teasingly.

"Yes, princess," he said softly. He strolled casually towards her, one foot over the other while his head swayed back and forth in contentment. "Finally decided you're no use to us, and apparently you're no use to anyone else as well."

Amy looked curiously at the wizard, her eyes narrowed so as to display some of her obvious disdain while Avery continued to speak. "I mean, it's not like anyone has tried to find you have they?" He chuckled evilly. "Guess that blood-traitor Weasley realized he was better off without completely tarnishing his name. Blood-traitor is bad enough, he wouldn't want to add Mudblood-lover to the list. He's obviously forgotten all about you, because there's not even word that you're missing. It's like you've dropped off the face of the universe, princess, and not a soul cares."

He moved even closer to the witch until he was just a few feet away from her, and he bent over so his face was near hers.

"No one will care that you're gone, because no one cares now," he said softly. "Why prolong the inevitable when there's nothing worth living for because you are worth nothing." He clicked his tongue on the last syllable and Amy cringed as the words stuck in her mind, burning her thoughts.

He was right, wasn't he? Who know how long she had been down in this basement, and yet there was not a hint of anyone out there looking for her. It was like everyone had forgotten she had even existed… Maybe Avery was right…

The wizard straightened up and pointed his wand at the witch. He cocked his head as she sat there, staring blankly up at him. Amy didn't fully comprehend the look of pure joy in his eyes as he raised his wand a bit higher, and his mouth began to form the words. Words that were to be the last Amy ever heard.

…..

Charlie crouched down low in the bushes at the front of the seemingly abandoned house. It was snowing, and the sky was a dark, almost black, blue, the only light emitted was from that of his wand which was held low to the ground. Beside him, Charlie heard Tonks shuffled in the snow. Moody had put the two of them at the front of the house while he and the others went around back to look for possible exits and entrances to the building.

From his spot behind a rather large, frail bush, Charlie could see that the house was ragged and worn, and it looked as though it leaned eerily to the side. The front of the building was a dull gray, splattered with mud and the shutters of the window hung on an angle that was entirely off. Every once in a while, Charlie and Tonks would catch sight of movement through the broken windows, sometimes a flutter and sometimes large movement, all behind the torn curtains.

The duo had been outside the building for almost twenty minutes now, and Charlie could feel himself growing more and more anxious by the minute. If this was the place that Amy was being held in, then what was he doing out here? Why wasn't he in there, finding her, protecting her, saving her? She wasn't normally one that needed saving, but on the rare occasion when she did, Charlie was the one that wanted to be her savior.

They say in silence for several more moments before there were heavy footsteps behind them and they turned with their wands drawn only to find Kingsley, Tonks, Mad-Eye, and Arthur making their way back towards them. Charlie's eyes lit up as they approached and he stood up, careful to remain in the shadows of the trees and bushes.

"Well?" he prompted eagerly. He looked from one to the other and hoped for good news.

"There's definitely someone in there," Remus told the wizard, rubbing a hand over his tired face. "Several someone's in fact and they don't exactly appear to be any of the good guys either."

"And what about…" Tonks trailed off as she eyed Charlie anxiously. She knew the wizard had been wondering the same thing, but she thought it would be better for her to ask – or at least attempt to ask – rather than to have Mad-Eye think he was going soft.

Remus shook his head slowly. "We didn't see any sign of Amy," he told the two, and Charlie's shoulders slumped noticeably. "But that doesn't mean she's not here," Remus said quickly, trying to raise the wizard's hopes. "It just means that they don't have her somewhere that she could escape from easily. She could still be somewhere in there, but we won't know until we actually get in there."

"Which is what we should be doing," Mad-Eye broke in gruffly. "Not sitting out here like ducks talking about your love life." The Auror brushed past the others so that the house was in his sights. Leaning against his staff, Moody pointed towards the house. "The main purpose of this mission is to capture as many Death Eaters as possible. We want them alive so we can take them in, though dead is an option as well." Kingsley shot the wizard a look while the others merely waited for him to continue. "Our best chance is to enter the house, wands blazing, and take as many down as possible."

"What about Amy?" Charlie asked forcefully. It seemed as though all of Moody's plans were focused around the Death Eaters and as though he had forgotten that Amy was out there and was the reason behind this mission in the first place.

"Miss Wyman is an afterthought," Mad-Eye said bluntly. Charlie's eyes narrowed furiously but the Auror took no notice. "We look for her after we've secured the house, and remember the deal. You step a toe out of line and you're gone." Charlie clenched his jaw to stop from himself from snapping furiously at the wizard, knowing that he wasn't kidding about sending him home.

"We all know what to do," Mad-Eye proclaimed, looking from one person to the other. "Don't fall out of line, because I have no qualms about leaving anyone of you behind."

"Yeah but Molly might," Arthur muttered. Moody ignored the wizard as he straightened himself up and drew his staff closer to him. He nodded at those gathered around him before stomping his staff and Apparating away with a snap. The others immediately drew their wands as well and turned on their heels, the image of the house just in the distance blooming in their minds.

Immediately, Charlie felt the air around him change as he Apparated into the house, and he opened his eyes only after the wind died down around him. His eyes grew alert and quickly became accustomed to the darkness that surrounded him. The wizard raised his wand cautiously as he sought out any movement in the area. From different rooms of the house, Charlie could clearly hear the sounds of the others fighting, obviously having Apparated into the middle of a fray, and the wizard would join them, but only after he had ensured no one else was in the room. He would be no help to anyone, particularly Amy, if he was killed with his back turned simply because he didn't check the perimeter of the room.

Charlie paused for a moment in the doorway of the room, his hand gripping the worn frame as he listened intently for a moment. He could have sworn…

The wizard's eyes went wide and he ducked as a bright green light shot over his head. He turned on his heel, still near to the ground, as his eyes sought out the source of the curse. All he could see though was the faint outline of a hooded figure towards the back of the room. Charlie's eyes narrowed as he saw the figure raise their wand again, and the Weasley lunged to the side as the wall next to the door exploded, dust, debris, and cobwebs showering down on him.

Charlie rolled up and onto his feet, pleased that his Quidditch skills had not in fact left him, and he threw a spell off in the direction of the curse. The spell crashed into the wall, and wood showered down around them. He smirked when he heard the sound of wood bouncing off someone's head, and hoping that the man would be dazed long enough, Charlie lit his wand and the room flooded with light. Immediately, the wizard's sights landed on a figure crouched on the floor, his hands gripped around his forehead where blood was streaming through his fingers, likely from a wood-induced cut.

The stranger blinked in the new light, and he looked up, his hood falling back, to reveal a large gash in his hairline where the blood was streaming from. The wizard immediately dropped his hands from his face and lunged to grab his wand that had rolled several feet away from him, but with a flick of his wand, Charlie had summoned the piece of wood into his hand. The bleeding man watched with angry eyes as the wand flew into Charlie's outstretched hand, and he fell back onto his knees, a grumpy look coming across his face.

Charlie could feel a cut of his own bleeding from his jawline but he ignored the trickle of blood that was making its way down his neck. Instead, he focused his energy on the wizard in front of him. A wizard that looked too familiar for his own good… Charlie knew him from somewhere, but at the moment he could care less. All he could focus on was finding out where Amy was. Screw Mad-Eye, he had the chance to find her and he was taking it. They would be fine without him.

"Where is she?" Charlie demanded, keeping his wand trained on the other wizard's movements. "Where the hell is she?"

The other wizard cocked his head like an innocent child as he looked at the redhead in front of him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he hissed, wincing as the blood continued to track its way down his face. Charlie would have believed him if it weren't for the smirk that crossed his face and the chuckle that he emitted deep from his chest. The Weasley glared and took several steps closer to the wizard, pointing his wand directly at his face.

"Liar," he snarled. His blood was pumping angrily under his skin. "Where is _she_?" He twitched his wand threateningly. He was pleased to see the other wizard's eyes follow the movements of his wand before looking up at him.

"What's it to you?" he countered. "Why does it matter where she is?" Charlie's eyes narrowed even further as he forced his wand a little closer to the wizard's face.

"She is everything," Charlie forced out through clenched teeth. "That's why. Now tell me where she is, or so help me…" He trailed off, hoping the wizard understood the threat. The man obviously did as he straightened his back, leaning back slightly so as to distance himself from the redhead's wand. He trailed his eyes from Charlie's wand up to his face, and realization seemed to dawn on him.

He smirked and nodded.

"Ah, Weasley," he said lightly. "Almost didn't recognize you without the Mudblood on your arm." Charlie's grip on his wand tightened further and he felt his hand shake with fury at the derogative term. The wizard obviously noted this for his smirk grew larger into an almost leering grin.

"Oh, does Mudblood hurt your poor, little traitor heart?" he cooed like a mother to a baby. "Are you going to cry?"

Charlie leapt forward and grasped the wizard by the collar of his robes. He forced him up and pointed his wand so close to his face that the other man's eyes went cross so he could keep his sights on it. Charlie could feel anger and hatred burning in his veins like fire as his normally cool eyes blazed with fury. He leaned down so his face was near the man's.

"Where. Is. She?" he spat furiously. He could still hear noises from the other rooms of the house, but he couldn't focus on that now.

The other wizard smiled evilly and he leaned forward, his sour breath reaching Charlie as he whispered one word that broke Charlie's heart into millions of pieces.

"_Dead."_

Charlie's grasp on the man's robes went limp and he stumbled backward, his hands falling to his side. He felt his breaths grow shorter and shorter as the other man laughed evilly and without sympathy.

"Amy," Charlie breathed desperately. He felt tears prickle at his eyes as the man's words were seared in his mind. A few tears rolled down his face and the other wizard continued to laugh.

"That bitch is dead," he cackled, obviously taking pleasure in Charlie's pain. Charlie looked at him through watery eyes and he laughed again. "And the world is better for it! The Dark Lord is stronger with it!"

Charlie continued to stagger backwards as his mind went from one memory to the next. The night he met Amy with that very distracting summer dress, 'saving' her from Karkaroff at the Yule Ball, their first kiss in the shadowy hall at Grimmuald Place… he could almost feel her lips against his for a moment and his tears continued to well up in his eyes as he realized that the kiss he and Amy had shared just before the Katie girl's incident at Hogsmeade was their last.

"You should have heard how she begged," the wizard sneered. "Each time that we tortured her, she sobbed like a baby and begged us for mercy." He spat at the ground. "So pitiful, but not surprising for a Mudblood whore. I swear her screams were the most amazing thing-"

Charlie moved faster than he thought he could, lashing out. He whipped his wand out and pointed it at the wizard. The power of the curse sent him man flying backwards into the wall behind him. Charlie felt no regret as the wizard slumped to the floor as dust and debris settled around him. All the wizard could think of was what he had said.

That Amy was dead.

…..

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>I'm not even going to address what happened in this chapter, but I will say, I think I like this update once a week on Sunday thing. It doesn't get in the way of my work and it gives me time to write on the train... plus it's a nice way to end the weekend... OH, and thanks for the reviews encouraging me to calm down about my grade. You were right. By some miracle, it's up to a B now, and I really shouldn't have been freaking out. Anyway, please don't forget to review... I think I'm going to enjoy what ya'll have to say...maybe..

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	55. Chapter 54

**AN: ** I know I said Sunday night, but this was the closest I could get to that. Plus, it's a miracle it's out _this_ early seeing as I have an APUSH test in the morning. Anyway, to all my lovely reviewers, thank you so much, I really appreciate everything! Also, a special shout-out to Ginga no Yousei. You're totally right that this whole thing is predictable and ever author does it, but at the same time, I hope that I was able to convey a bigger message, one less focused on drama and more on the idea of how important Amy and Charlie are to each other. You're right that Amy's not a damsel-in-distress but she's also not someone accustomed to being tortured day after day, and I think everyone needs saving at one point. You can't be perfect and I think relying on others is just a basic human need. You can't always be there to do everything and save the day, and sometimes you have to depend on someone else to be there to pick up the pieces, and sometimes save you in the process. Anyway, I really did enjoy your review in particular, so thank you!

* * *

><p><strong>Dedication:<strong> To Andie! I hope you have a wonderful birthday!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing you recognize.

Charlie remained in the room with the unconscious wizard for some time. He wasn't sure how long, it could have been minutes, days, years, he didn't really know, and in all honesty, he didn't really care. Amy was apparently dead somewhere and nothing really seemed to matter anymore, not now that the thing that mattered most to him was gone.

He had given up on trying to remain upright some time ago and was now half sitting and half standing from a spot against the wall. He's hands were woven through his hair and tears were trickling down his face.

This wasn't how this was supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to be late. He was supposed to save her. She was supposed to be alive. He was supposed to get her back, he was supposed to tell her how much he loved her, how much he missed her. Mostly, he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with her.

His heart ached a little more at that thought. It had been running through his mind for a while now and he could honestly say it wasn't something that frightened him. The idea of spending the rest of his life with Amy just seemed right to him. He could honestly imagine waking up every day with her next to him, and the woes of house hunting and what colors they should paint the rooms. There was a faint gleam of happiness in his sadness in the image of Amy with a swollen stomach smiling cheerfully and surrounded by pastel colored clothing and tiny books with bright pictures. That image however was suppressed as he remembered that it would never happen. Not now anyway.

That's what he thought was supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to die and he wasn't supposed to be crying in an abandoned house with an unconscious Death Eater, who had likely killed the love of his life, a few feet away.

The wizard looked up and wiped at his tears as someone appeared in the broken doorframe of the room. He immediately picked his wand up and made to point it at the new figure but stopped as the moonlight gleamed off of familiar red hair.

Arthur peered around the room, his eyes drifting over the debris and wood until they landed on his son who was nestled in the corner his head in his hands. He started forward, ignoring the prone figure of the man in the corner, as he focused attention on his second oldest.

"Charlie?" Arthur asked anxiously. He knelt down next to the man and placed a hand on his shaking shoulder. "Charlie, are you okay? Are you hurt?" The wizard choked back a sob at his father's words and he shook his head despondently.

"She's dead," he croaked just above a whisper. "Amy's dead." Arthur's eyes went wide at Charlie's words and he glanced around the empty room before he looked back at his son. Arthur gripped Charlie's shoulder tightly and placed his other hand on his elbow. He stood up and pulled his son into a standing position. Charlie staggered a bit as Arthur kept a tight grip on him.

"Charlie," Arthur said quietly. "Charlie, please…" He trailed off and the wizard looked up with tears still streaming down his face.

"D-Dad," he stammered. "Dad, she's gone." More tears spilled over and Arthur felt some tears of his own prickle at his eyes as he saw the evident pain on his son's face.

"Charlie, you don't know that," he protested. "You don't know that." Charlie let out a sob and Arthur felt his heart ache at the sight of the tears streaming from his son's eyes. He pulled Charlie into a tight hug, gripping his shoulders tightly as he continued to cry heart-wrenching sobs.

Growing up, Charlie wasn't one to show his touchy-feely emotions much. He was the easy-go-lucky one, after the Twins of course. He was the one with a smile on his face and an adventurous attitude. Skinned knees and yellowing bruises were nothing and they certainly didn't slow him down. He was Charlie for that reason. He fell but he got back up and did it again.

But this… Arthur didn't know if this was the same. He didn't know if Charlie would be able to pick himself back up after this. Charlie was strong, Charlie was a fighter, but that didn't mean he couldn't break, and obviously this same rule applied to Amy.

There was a few more heart breaking moments of sobbing before Arthur pulled away from his son. He gripped him tightly by the shoulders and forced him to look him in the eye.

"Don't give up just yet," he ordered. "She could still be here." Charlie's jaw shook as though he was going to start to cry again but he nodded instead and wiped at his tear stained cheeks. Arthur patted him on the shoulder and looked around the room. He paused as he caught sight of the figure in the corner that was still unconscious before back at his son.

"We best move into the room with the others," he said lightly. His words triggered the memory in Charlie's mind and the dragonologist was reminded that there were in fact others on this mission and that there had been other fighting going on. He felt guilt build up inside of him, hating himself for simply forgetting about the others on this mission who had been willing to risk their lives for his girlfriend.

"Is…" he trailed off, his voice still thick with tears. Charlie coughed to clear his throat before continuing. "Is everyone else alright?"

Arthur glanced at Charlie as he made his way across the room. The older wizard flicked his wand and ropes sprung from the end, wrapping around the unconscious Death Eater in tight loops. He waved his wand again and the wizard was pulled from the rubble to levitate in the air at Arthur's side.

"A few cuts and bruises," Arthur told him. "Nothing serious. Moody was right that we would have the advantage of surprise. They had no idea we knew about this place." Charlie nodded once, but he wasn't really listening as his mind drifted back to Amy. Arthur seemed to notice this change in his son's demeanor and so he kept quiet as he led him back to the room with the others.

The others were huddled together in the main room of the house, their wands trained on a group of Death Eaters who were either unconscious or bound with twine identical to the one that Arthur had used on Charlie's Death Eater. The looked up as the father-son duo entered the room. They immediately noticed the tears stained to Charlie's cheeks, but they chose to ignore it. Arthur carefully levitated the still unconscious, bound form to the center of the room where he let it fall next to the other Death Eaters with a dusty thud.

"We were wondering where you got to," Moody said gruffly. "Decided to take a nap somewhere?" Charlie glared at the wizard with redden eyes but said nothing. Tonks looked between her mentor and her friend nervously, wondering why exactly it was that the redhead's cheeks were tearstained. The others also looked at him curiously, and Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly to draw their attention away from his emotion-stricken son.

"We were taking our time," the father supplied. "Didn't want to risk him waking up unexpectedly." Arthur wasn't about to admit to the others that his son had been crying in the other room.

Kingsley moved around the group so he could peer down at the new captive. He tilted his head and nodded slowly.

"This one's Avery," he said, pointing down at the unconscious form. "No one could ever prove it but he's said to be one of Voldemort's most loyal followers." Charlie looked down at the unconscious wizard sharply, realization dawning on him. Avery was the Death Eater who was constantly out to get Amy. He had been the one to duel her at the Ministry the night Sirius died. He had been the one who tortured her then and the one who tortured her the night of her first mission with Remus and Tonks. Charlie felt his blood boil as he realized that he was the one behind Amy's cuts and bruises the night she showed up at his apartment, drenched in snow and blood.

"Doesn't matter who the hell he is," Moody broke in, stomping his walking stick loudly causing the others to jump. "What matters is where we go from here with the lowly bastards."

"Well, we can't exactly leave them here, can we?" Tonks asked, keeping a wary eye on the group of wizards. The conscious ones glared at her, but the witch merely stuck her tongue at them in response.

"No, we can't," Remus agreed. Tonks looked up brightly at his agreement before looking down as though his words meant nothing, although there was a bright sheen that contrasted against her muddy hair. Lupin eyed her before taking a step towards Moody. "We still have to look for Amy-" Charlie flinched at the witch's name and stared stonily ahead at the depleted wall, his eyes still red from his crying. "-but as Tonks said, we can't leave them here on their own."

"We could take them back to the Ministry," Kingsley supplied with his rich voice. "I mean, they're not exactly going to be upset about the capture of dangerous criminals, are they?"

"You can never be too sure," Arthur mused wisely. "We all know Scrimgeour can be pretty intense, and we have to expect that he's not going to sit back and simply imprison them without questions. Even if they are Death Eaters, he's not Fudge. He's going to want to know what happened, who was involved, everything really." He spared a glance at his son and wondered for a moment if it would be smart to tell the Minister about Amy's kidnapping.

"Well, that's all fine and dandy," Tonks broke in, stepping forward so she was in the circle rather than a part of it. "But frankly, I could care less about what we do with these guys. What we should actually focus on now is finding Amy. She has to be here somewhere, and quite honestly, I'm surprised you aren't already looking for her, Charlie." The witch put her hands on her hips and looked pointedly at the wizard.

Charlie froze, not knowing what to say. Did he tell them what Avery had told him? Did he tell them that Amy, the person who this mission was centered on saving, was likely dead? Could he even say the words out-loud again?

Arthur seemed to notice his son's struggle to admit what he had heard and what was inevitably running through his mind. Instead, the father took a step forward and cleared his throat with a cough. Tonks turned her glare off of Charlie and onto his father, an eyebrow raised expectedly.

"Avery told us that…" he trailed off, trying to think of the best way to phrase this. He looked at his son, who had a hopeless look in his eye, before summoning his Gryffindor courage and continued on. "He told us that Amy is dead."

Tonks' eyes widened and her face blanched. Kingsley let out a tiny noise of sadness, while Moody's expressions didn't change at the news.

"That doesn't matter," Mad-Eye dismissed. "Not now, anyway." Charlie's eyes flashed dangerously, and he turned to face the Auror furiously.

"Doesn't matter?" he demanded. "Doesn't matter? She's a person, with a family and a career, and a _life._ How can that not matter?"

Moody glared at him and began to speak gruffly. "Remember my rules, Weasley,"" Moody warned. "You're very close to putting a toe out of line." His eye whizzed around in his head though he did manage to narrow his good eye dangerously. Charlie, however, was not fazed by the warning.

"Well, you can take you rules and shove 'em-"

"Mad-Eye!" Tonks broke in eagerly. She stepped between the two men and held up her hands to ward off any spells the wizards may have shot off. "Perhaps you and Kingsley should bring these men in. It'll be easier with them unconscious, yes?" She looked at her mentor with false brightness, and he merely glared at her. It looked like he wanted to say something else to Charlie, but one look at Tonks's expression turned him off and he instead moved into the center of the circle and raised his wand to lash the Death Eaters together in a bundle.

While he did this, Tonks turned to look encouragingly at Kingsley and urged him forward to assist the other Auror. The tall man shot her a look before also stepping forward to grasp part of the bundled criminals. The two nodded at the others, and Moody gave them a warning look, his stern gaze lingering on the still infuriated Charlie.

"Remember," he said grumpily. "Constant-"

"-vigilance," the others finished in unison. Moody glared at them before Apparating away with Kingsley and the roped Death Eaters in tow.

After they had vanished from the room, Remus stepped towards the middle of the room where the Dark Wizards had just been. He put his hands in his shabby coat pockets as he looked from person to person.

"We shouldn't stay long," he told them. "We only captured six men tonight, and who knows who else may know about this place. We could have some unwanted visitors come bursting in at any moment so we should try and find Amy as quickly as we can."

The others nodded and made noises of agreement though Charlie's was distinctly discouraged. They dispersed throughout the room, their wands drawn in case of attack. The group peered into corners and around doorways, all of them in search of any sign of Amy. They knew – they _hoped – _shesomewhere, she just had to be. For Charlie's sake and for theirs. She may not seem it, but Amy was so incredibly important, and every single one of them cared about her so much. She was the one who kept them all together. She may be sarcastic and blunt at times, but she was also the one who always had something to say to brighten their days, as cheesy as that sounded. She almost always had a joke or a smile, and her sardonic optimism was almost unbearable when combined with Charlie's cheerful positivity.

Which was why they needed to find her. They needed her happiness and they needed to have Charlie back, because without her, Charlie was nothing like himself. The usually happy-go-lucky man was nothing like himself. He was snippy and harsh, and so entirely not himself that were it not for his red hair no one would be able to recognize him.

The wizard in question was slowly trudging from room to room, his head low, as he kicked debris across the floor. He had heard Avery say the words himself. He had heard him say that Amy was dead, and he now had little hope that they would be able to find her, dead or alive. It was these feelings that caused no joy or hope to pass through him when he heard someone shout from the other room. It was why he didn't go running like the others and why he didn't stare at the locked door with hope bubbling in his stomach.

They all stood in a semi-circle, surrounding the door with their wands aloft to cast light over the wood form. The group stood there for a moment in silence, while the stared in contemplation. The house was silent aside from the occasional groan as it settled and swayed in the wind and the heavy breaths of anticipation from the Order members.

"Do you…" Tonks trailed off slowly as she mulled over her words. "Do you think she's in there?'

There was a pregnant pause.

"Only one way to find out," Remus said determinedly. He waved his wand and there was a satisfying click signaling that the door was now unlocked. There was another moment of hesitation before Remus took a step forward and grasped the doorknob, pulling it open swiftly. The group peered over him only to be greeted by blind darkness. No light was emitted from the room whatsoever and nor was there any noise.

It was Charlie who took the initiative as they huddled around the doorway. He edged himself past Remus and flicked his wand so that light sparked at the end. Light flooded through the room, as the group peered into the basement. Charlie's wand shook slightly as his gaze swept over the room, before he began his descent of the stairs, his eyes looking for something, anything. He knew that he shouldn't be leading the crowd but he couldn't help himself, and behind him, Charlie heard the others follow him down the steps, searching the contours of the dirty room. There was something bubbling up inside of Charlie, something that was telling him this was the place, and there was a smidge of hope in him that maybe, just maybe, but he quickly squelched it. He couldn't allow himself to get his hopes up, not now. The faint glow of the group's light spread throughout the basement, illuminating the walls that were made of stones packed with dirt and the floor that was hard and covered in dirt and dust. With a violent roll of his stomach, Charlie also noted dark brown-red stains on various spots of the floor and he felt his stomach heave at the thought of what may have happened in this basement.

As the others dispersed throughout the rather large basement in search of anyone or anything, Charlie turned in a slow circle, his keen, blue eyes surveying the cold room before him. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be locked in here for days. There were no windows or lights beside the one emitted from the wands, and he could see how the darkness may become too much, too constricting and though he hoped to find Amy, he also hoped that she wouldn't be in here. He couldn't handle the idea of her locked away in this dark, cold cellar all alone with nothing but her thoughts and the torments of a madman.

"Charlie." Tonks's voice echoed softly throughout the cellar and the wizard spun on his heel, his wand still held aloft, as he sought out the brown mass of hair that was Tonks. It took him a moment, but the light of the room finally drew his attention to the young Auror who was crouched in the corner of the cellar. His gaze landed on a dark form, slumped over in the corner of the room just next to Tonks and he felt his heart clench as he noted that the figure did not move. He approached the two slowly, his wand rising slightly to cast a better glow of light on the figure. The light from his wand caught the person's limp, dingy hair, red and brown flashing in the dreariness of the room, and as he moved closer, his wand illuminated the rest of the form; small stature, curves, and long, shapely legs, exposed in the remains of a tattered shirt and leggings.

Charlie felt his knees shake beneath him before he lunged forward, his wand dropping beside him, as he kneeled besides Amy. His eyes flashed over the witch's body, and he reached his shaking hand up to brush the hair away from her face. Next to him, Tonks shifted a bit so that the wizard could kneel down completely next to the prone figure. His bright eyes surveyed Amy's face, taking in the bruises and cuts, and he stroked her face gently, brushing away bits of dirt and dried blood.

"Amy," he whispered, his voice shaking in the low tone. "Oh Merlin, Amy." His voice quivered and more tears welled up in his eyes, and Charlie noted the concerned look Tonks gave him from his peripheral. Choosing to ignore it, Charlie looked down the length of Amy's body, attempting to cast away the images of her broken body that were now burned into his memory. Alas, the wizard only felt the fury build up inside him at the sight of the injuries that covered the length of her entire body. Scratches, bruises, cuts… the witch was a walking injury, except she wasn't walking, quite the opposite in fact, and all these injuries had been forced upon her violently.

'_I'm going to kill them for hurting her,' _Charlie thought furiously as the anger within in him bubbled and surged and caused a red fury to burn behind his eyes._ 'If it's the last thing I do.'_

He vaguely noticed Tonks from the corner of his eye standing up and drawing the others towards the prone figure and worried wizard, but he ignored their stares and whispers, his eyes never straying from her beautiful, abused face. He heard several of the others approach them and peer worriedly over his shoulder, but Charlie paid them no attention as he focused entirely on the prone figure of the witch before him. He placed a soothing hand across Amy's face, caressing the damaged skin, and he swallowed his tears down harshly, forcing himself not to break down again. Her face was cool to the touch and covered in a thin coat of cold sweat. There was no warmth in her at all, she was so cold, so still, so lifeless…

Charlie dropped his head into his hand as the tears he had tried to hold back pooled up and over. He took a shaky breath, feeling guilt and regret build up inside of him. He had lost the most important thing to him. Amy was his family, she was the key to his future, his happiness, and now she was gone. He gripped his hair painfully as he allowed his anger and guilt to consume him. He should have found her sooner; he should have been there for her. He should have-

A rattling breath broke through the death-like silence of the room. Charlie's head shot from his hand and he looked at Amy's prone figure before him, watching as her chest slowly fell back into place as she exhaled. The wizard's eyes were wide with disbelief as her chest continued to move with shallow breaths. Charlie didn't have to look behind him to know that the others were just as shocked. He slowly moved forward until his ear was just above her chest, and he shut his eyes in concentration as he listened for something, anything. He had seen her breath obviously, but before he let himself hope, before he did anything, he had to hear her heart. He needed to.

"Come on," he breathed softly, his eyes welling with tears as he didn't hear any echo of her heart beating in her chest. His mind flashed quickly to the idea that she may not be alive and it had all just been a trick of the light or his hopes getting the best of him, and that he would never see her open her eyes, never hear her say another word, never hold her warm body against his… "Come on, love."

Several moments passed in heavy tension when, to his relief, Charlie heard the faint beat of Amy's heart rattling in her chest, and he pulled away quickly, his own heart rate starting to fall back to a normal rate as relief flooded his body.

"She's alive," he breathed, panting a bit in wonderment, before he turned to look up at the faces of those peering down at him. "She's alive." Charlie just caught a glimpse of his father's ecstatic smile before he turned back to Amy. "We need to get her out of here," he said loudly as he turned to look back down at the unconscious, cold form of his girlfriend. He could hear the group murmuring in agreement, but Charlie instead focused on how they were going to take her from the basement.

Hurriedly, Charlie stuffed his wand into his pocket and slipped his arms underneath Amy's knees and back. Carefully, he stood up so that the witch was resting limply in his arms. She was cold against the warmth of his body, and for a brief second, the night she had come to his house in the snow flashed in his mind before he returned to the present. The witch was drenched in a cold, clammy sweat, and a flash of worry struck Charlie as he realized that it was likely Amy was sick from the cold of the basement as well in some terrible pain. As he stood there, Charlie stared down at Amy's pale face, and his eyes traced the bruises and smudges of dirt that covered it, broken only by a smear of blood and the tear stains that were tracked into her cheeks. Charlie's heart ached horribly as he thought about the witch, alone and cold in the basement with tears acting as her only comfort.

Charlie turned towards the group, careful of Amy who was hanging limply in his arms. "Where are we taking her?" he asked, grateful that his voice didn't crack because of the emotions running through him. He couldn't believe that she was actually alive. He couldn't believe that he had been given this second chance, this opportunity to show her just how much he loved her, to never leave her side, to be there for her, to love her. He glanced briefly at the others before back at his unconscious girlfriend, afraid to let them see the tears that were brimming in the corners of his bright, blue eyes. He couldn't believe the surge of emotions building inside of him, all for this woman. More importantly, he couldn't believe she was _alive_.

"We'll take her back to the Burrow," Arthur piped up from the back of the group. Charlie looked up, finding his father's glasses and familiar red hair in the dark basement. "Your Mum can take care of her there." There was obvious relief in the father's voice, and Arthur looked his son in the eye, seeing the emotions in them. It was evident that Charlie was completely overwhelmed by the fact that Amy was alive. He had obviously given up hope and he must still be getting over the shock. Charlie nodded slowly and stepped around the group towards the stairs.

The others followed him out, their wands still aloft in case a rogue Death Eater was still in the shabby house, but the they all made it out of the house rather quickly. As they exited the grounds, Charlie tightened his arms around Amy, staring into her white face as he turned, the image of his childhood home pictured in his mind.

…..

Charlie didn't even bother with the ridiculous question system that his mother and father had set up for the family. Instead, he pushed his way through the door with a bang, surprising his mother, Bill, and Fleur, who were huddled around the kitchen table. The three looked up, their eyes wide as they took in the sight of the red head, panting with fearful eyes.

"Charlie!" Molly cried, standing up and rushing towards him. She took in the sight of the girl in his arms and her moth dropped open in shock. "Who is-?" she broke off as her eyes landed on the woman's face. "Amy? What on earth-?" Molly's eyes switching from Charlie's face to that of her husband's who had trailed after his son, shutting the door behind him. Tonks and Remus had undoubtedly decided not to come to the Burrow and had instead gone their separate ways, knowing they would receive an update on Amy as soon as possible. "Never mind," Molly said hurriedly.

Bill and Fleur stood to make room for them as Molly ushered Charlie passed them hurriedly. "Take her up to your room, Charlie," she demanded as she began to pull open drawers and cabinets around the room in search of supplies she would need. "Make sure she's comfortable. I'm going to get some supplies." Charlie nodded obediently at his Mum though it was obvious that he wasn't really listening. As his mother bustled around the room, Charlie turned and began to walk carefully up the steps of the home, making sure not to jostle Amy on his way up. He carefully stepped over strewn items of clothing on the stares, and he didn't care that his steps weren't quiet. His siblings may be sleeping in the rooms above, but Amy was hurt and possibly dying. Hell, she should be dead, and he wasn't about to take his time in saving her just for the sake of his siblings' beauty sleep.

Charlie's room was on the second floor, across from Bill's. He turned slightly, pushing the door open with his shoulder gently – it had never really closed properly anyway – and shuffled inside the doorway. The room was bathed in the darkness of the late night, the shadows casted over the décor of the room in varying shades of darkness; the posters, the bed, the desk, everything were shaded in the night's dim lighting. Charlie carefully made his way into the room, careful to not bump the limp girl into the doorframe. His movements caused the witch to shift in his arms, and her hand slipped from her lap to fall and hang limply towards the ground, while her head lolled towards Charlie. Her face pressed lightly against his chest and Charlie felt warmth surge through him at her closeness to him.

He shuffled carefully across the room, approaching the bed that was set against the wall. The bed was still covered in the blankets and sheets from when he had left for Romania years ago: a worn, blue patchwork quilt, a warm, knitted afghan, and many fluffy pillows. With ease, he laid Amy gently onto the bed, adjusting her so that she was laying on her back comfortably, her head burrowed into the soft pillows. He reached for the blanket at the end of the bed, pulling it over Amy's abused body, slowly and carefully. Though he knew they were still there, Charlie felt evident relief flood him as her cuts and bruises disappeared under the blanket.

Gently, so as to not jostle the bed, Charlie sat on the edge of the mattress. He held Amy's limp hand tightly in his own, as his other hand stroked her face. Slowly, he brushed her dirty, blood matted hair out of her shut eyes, his hand shaking slightly as tears rose up in his eyes, blurring his vision and turning his room into a mass of blues and greys. He couldn't believe that they had found her, that she was alive. He had honestly believed Avery when he said he was dead. What reason did the Death Eater have to lie? It didn't make sense, but Charlie didn't care. Not now, anyway. All he cared about was that Amy was there in front of him, bruised and beaten, but alive… for now at least.

Slowly, Charlie leaned down, hesitating for a moment before brushing his lips softly against Amy's cold, unresponsive ones. He stayed there for a moment, relishing the feel of his lips against hers, even if there was no life behind it, before he pulled back, his forehead pressed gently against hers. He could feel her chest rising slowly against his, relief filling him at the feel of her shallow breath against his cheek.

"Amy," he whispered, breaking the relative silence of the room, "You have to get well, okay love? I love you so much, too much, so you need to get better. You need to live. I need you, and I think you need me too, so please, come back to me, to us." His voice cracked at the end of the sentence and a tear dripped from his face and traced its way down Amy's, leaving a clean track on her dirt covered face. Charlie pulled back suddenly as the door opened, turning quickly to see his mother hurrying into the room. In the shadows of room, the wizard saw his mother wave her wand sharply and Charlie blinked rapidly as light filled the room, though the brightness did nothing to stir the unconscious witch.

"Charlie, dear," Molly started, setting down a handful of cloths, potions, and a basin of water. "You should leave the room, at least while I clean her up." She straightened up and looked at Charlie expectantly, waiting for him to leave. Charlie began to protest, not wanting to leave Amy for a second, not again, but he paused at the stern look his Mum gave him and he knew that he would be more of a problem than help, so he nodded slowly, reluctantly. He pressed one last gentle, lingering kiss on Amy's forehead before standing and exiting the room, shuffling across the carpet as he took his time, trying to stay in the witch's presence for as long as possible. As he made to exit the room, Charlie paused and turned for a moment to watch as his mother began her work on Amy. Tenderly, the motherly witch used a wet cloth to wipe away the dirt and grime from her face, careful to avoid the numerous cuts across her face. Charlie stood there for a moment more before forced himself to step out of the room, and close the door behind him.

If this were a normal, after a less exhausting mission or any other night really, Charlie would've gone down to the kitchen and seated himself at the kitchen table. Maybe he would have enjoyed some of his mother's food and laughed about who knows what with his siblings. Someone would probably start an argument and they would all bicker for a while, but in the end, they would always go back to laughing. This time however, Charlie slumped against the wall outside of his room, sliding slowly to the floor with a thud. He rubbed his hands wearily against his face, scratching at the agitated tear-stained skin on his cheeks before he felt his body completely break and his head fell onto his knees, his hands grasping the back of his head as he let out a shuddering breath.

The wizard breathed heavily, taking in loud, rattling breaths as tears built up in his eyes before streaming over. He couldn't believe that he still had tears to cry, not after the past few hours. His eyes should have dried up by now, but instead, tears continued to pool from his eyes and down his cheeks in rivers.

Vaguely, Charlie heard steps from below, and he kept his head burrowed into his knees as someone climbed the stairs of the mismatched home before dropping to the floor next to him as quietly as they could in the sleeping house. A warm hand plopped itself onto Charlie's back, as tears continued to leak from his eyes, dripping into his jeans as he sniffed and tried to compose himself.

Several moments passed, the only sound being movement from downstairs and sniffling from Charlie. Seconds passed followed by what felt like hours but were actually just mere minutes. Charlie slowly began to regain normal breathing, one that didn't rattle and shudder as much, and he brushed away the stray tears from his face with a calloused hand. Tiredly, Charlie raised his head and turned it towards the person seated next to him on the floor of the hallway. In the dim lighting, Charlie could see the profile of his brother Bill seated next to him, staring blankly at the staircase in front of him. As he felt Charlie move beneath his hand, the cursebreaker turned so that he was facing him, his profile lit up in the half-moon from a near-by window.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly after a moment, hesitant to break the silence of the home. Charlie nodded slowly, afraid that if he spoke his voice would crack. Bill nodded at the response before turning to face the stairs again. There was another pause before he continued on. "Is she going to be okay?" Charlie took a moment to respond before he shrugged jerkily, a lone tear slipping from his eye. Bill's arm immediately moved from Charlie's back to around his shoulder, and he gripped his brother's upper arm tightly and comfortingly. "She's strong. I'm sure she'll be fine."

Charlie barely nodded, not really listening to what his brother said as his eyes zoned onto a crack in the floorboard. Slowly, the wizard reached a finger out so that his nail just barely touched the imperfection, which he traced over and over. The repetition seemed to calm him slightly, and his shoulders eventually stopped shuddering with tears as he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. And so, the two brothers fell into silence as the house grew quiet, broken only by a howl of wind and the creaking of the settling home.

…..

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> To bed! And _Mark of Athena!_

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	56. Chapter 55

**AN:** Hey everyone! Thanks so much for all of your feedback, I really appreciate it all and I wanted to get the next chapter out as soon as possible. So... here it is! I hope you all enjoy it!

**Dedication: **To my brother! Happy belated birthday!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

* * *

><p>Time passed so incredibly slowly that Charlie was sure he had aged by now. He was sure that the next time he tried to get up he would be an old man, crippled and bent over with a head and beard of white. He really had no way to judge how much time had passed since he had collapsed against the wall, Bill at his side. His body and mind had gone numb, and no real thoughts went through his mind. Instead, the wizard focused on the small notch in the floor, continuing to trace it as the seconds passed. It was quite possibly the only thing keeping the wizard sane and stopping him from jumping up and bursting into his room, demanding to see the witch inside.<p>

Suddenly, the door to Charlie's room opened, and the two men seated outside the door turned quickly towards it, their eyes wide and their faces hopeful. Molly appeared in the doorway, shuffling out of the room and into the dark hallway. Charlie scrambled off the ground clumsily, stumbling a bit as he stood for the first time in what felt like forever as he looked at his mother, who shut the door quietly behind her. Molly wiped her hands on the bottom of her skirt before turning to face her sons. She immediately saw the fear and worry in evident in Charlie's bright eyes and her face softened, though the wrinkles and worry lines were still as prominent as ever. Before anything was said, Molly took a step forward and pulled her son into a tight hug, her arms practically crushing him and she gripped him tightly. Charlie stood there awkwardly, his eyes wide with worry as a million thoughts began to race through his mind.

'_Why is she hugging me?' _he thought desperately, his face nestled into his mother's red hair. '_Is Amy alright? Was she not able to heal her?' _Charlie pulled away quickly and suddenly, looking down at his mother with anxious eyes. He could feel his heart racing in his chest as irrational thoughts fluttered through him.

"How is she, Mum?" he asked worriedly, his eyes darting around her face for an answer, a hint, anything that would tell him how his witch was doing. Molly smiled faintly, placing a gentle hand on his arm, as she tried to placate her son.

"She'll be fine, Charlie," she said softly, reassuringly. "She's pretty beat up, but she just needs some rest." The wizard flinched suddenly as he remembered that Amy was in fact 'beat up', complete with cuts and bruises, but then he remembered that he didn't care about that. All he cared was that she was back, here, with him.

"Can I-" Charlie broke off suddenly before swallowing and continuing. "Can I go in and see her?" His eyes were wide and hopeful at the prospect of seeing the witch. They had been apart far too long, and he couldn't stand being apart any longer.

Molly hesitated, biting her lip. She knew that Charlie desperately wanted to see Amy, but she also knew that seeing Amy in her torn up state would not do him any good. He shouldn't need to see the cuts and the bruises, and he definitely shouldn't have to see the torture which had been inflicted upon her. Molly almost shuddered as the image of the word _Mudblood_ carved into Amy's flesh crossed her mind. She had half a mind to tell Charlie no, that he couldn't see Amy, that she needed her rest and some time to herself in a safe place. But she felt her stern words die in her throat as she looked her son in the eye, immediately catching sight of the pleading look within his irises. Molly usually prided herself in being the mother that didn't give in, at least not without a fight. What she said was law and there was nothing anyone, not even her husband, could do to deter her from her course. But in this instance, with Charlie looking down at her with soulful, pleading eye, the witch felt herself crack. She knew it may hurt him to see Amy in that bed, but at the same time, she knew it would be absolutely torturous for him to be separated from the witch, knowing that she was just a few feet away.

So against her motherly judgment, Molly nodded slowly, and for the first time in what felt like years, Molly was graced with a faint yet eager smile from her son.

"Fine," she agreed, "but be careful. She's going to be incredibly sore and in so much pain, not to mention exhausted beyond belief, so try not to bother her too much. She needs her rest." She squeezed his arm before moving quietly passed him towards the stairs. Bill followed his Mum but paused at the top step. He glanced over his shoulder at this younger brother, studying him seriously. Bill looked as though he were about to say something but when Charlie looked back at him, Bill turned away and made his way down the stairs of the house, leaving the other man in the hallway outside his room.

The wizard turned now so he was facing the door to his bedroom. His hand was rested on the cool metal of the doorknob, hesitant yet anxious to enter the room. He wanted to go in the room and sit there with Amy, Merlin knows her did, but at the same time, he knew how incredibly difficult the next few days would be. He would never be able to fully understand all the pain and torment the witch had been through, he would never be able to comprehend what was running through her mind as second after torturous second passed by in that basement. What he was capable of though was being there for Amy, no matter how long that meant, no matter how many days he had to take off from work. He was going to be there for Amy, day in and day out, until she was better, and hopefully, even after that – after all of this – he would stay with her too.

Steeling himself, Charlie took several breaths before pressing against the wood of the door so that it opened revealing the dimmed bedroom lit only by a small candle on the nightstand. Charlie stood in the doorway a moment longer before entering his room and shutting the door behind him. The wizard stood there near the door for a moment, allowing his eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness of the room, despite the faint glow of the candle's flame and the moon shining through the window, as his sights found Amy's form.

The witch was still in the same position as when he had left her, although she was now wearing a large sweater of Charlie's instead of the ripped clothing from earlier. Charlie figured his Mum had changed her clothes, not wanting Amy to be stuck in the dirty, blood stained outfit. There was something so incredibly right about seeing her in his clothes that dwarfed her considerably, something so incredibly right about her being there that warmed Charlie to the core. A small smile crossed his face at the thought though it was quickly diminished as he took in the rest of her weary appearance.

Her face was still bruised, though nowhere near as badly as it had been when he had taken her from the cellar. While many of the cuts had been healed through his Mum's magic handiwork, there were little pink stripes on her face, reminiscent of where the scratches had been, and he could still see the faint outlines of bruises on her visible skin. Her face had more color to it than it had earlier, but she was still a sickly pale color, and Charlie felt a pang of anxiousness strike in the pit of his stomach. It hurt Charlie's heart to think about all the pain that she had been through, everything she had to suffer through on her lonesome, stuck in that dreary, bleak basement. It hurt him to think that she had to experience any pain at all, and in that instance, Charlie promised himself that nothing would happen to her again. He would never let anything happen to her; never let her feel the sting of another curse or a cruel word. He would protect her; he would save her, no matter the consequence.

Charlie shuffled across the room quietly, moving to sit down next to Amy's resting form on the bed. He covered her hand gently with his, moving a hand across her face lovingly. Her skin was still cool beneath his touch, but Charlie suspected that cold would soon give way to the fever likely coursing through her body. The wizard suddenly felt another surge of tears prickle at his eyes, and he wiped at them hastily, telling himself that he couldn't cry, not anymore. He had to be brave, he had to be strong, he had to be there for Amy and he couldn't do that if he was blubbering like a baby. All his focus, all his strength, his _love_ had to be put into Amy right then, and he wouldn't be able to do that if he was crying.

And that's how he sat for some time: seated on the edge of the bed, his hand wrapped around her cool one, as he urged whatever energy he had into her. He hoped that his being there would soothe the witch in her resting state. The wizard probably sat there for a good hour or so with no response from Amy. Sometimes he could have sworn he saw a flicker behind her eyes or felt a twitch or strain in her hand, but he forced himself not to dwell on them, telling himself that it was only his hopeful imagination. And for a while, that was all he could do.

He could only wait.

…..

The only thing that was clear to Amy was that everything was foggy. All the sounds around her were garbled as though they were coming from several rooms away and she felt as though she were floating in space. There didn't seem to be anything around her except for the voices that were filtering in and out of her hazy thoughts, and the witch allowed herself to be pulled into her memories instead of allowing herself to wake up to whatever torture awaited her.

…

_Amy's jumper bounced around her as she swung off of her father's hand. The two were walking ahead of the rest of their family as the little girl jabbered on about who knows what. She had a large, gap-toothed grin and in her free hand, she was carrying a half-eaten ice cream cone. _

_The little girl took little notice as her ice cream melted and dripped onto the path, her only focus being whatever story she was telling, and the content smile of her father who was looking down at her._

…

_The frizzy haired preteen sat a little off to the side of her family. Her hands were wrapped round her legs and her chin rested on her knees. She was watching the sky as her family chattered on and off. Though it was night and the moon was bright, the summer heat was sweltering and the eleven year old could practically feel her hair growing crazier and crazier each moment. It was just another summer night, and like every year, the Wyman family had taken a trip to Navy Pier. They had walked across the cement sidewalk for some time, admiring the red sunset that glimmered and sparkled across the blue lake before taking their seats on the steps above the water, waiting for the fireworks they all knew were coming. It was something they did every year, and while she loved these little family outings, the girl kind of wished she was back home. She hadn't been getting along with her siblings as of late and it didn't help that all of her friends were out of town enjoying the summer. It also didn't help that Amy was feeling completely alone and as though she didn't belong._

_Before she could muse over these thoughts anymore, there was a large boom as the first firework took to the sky, closely followed by another and then another. The night sky exploded into bright colors, and Amy sighed and cocked her head as she looked up at the bursting lights. Reds, blues, and greens illuminated the girl's face and her eyes sparkled for a bit before something caught her eye. Amy squinted as a dark form crossed over the sky, ignoring the fireworks as it flew overhead. The girl looked up curiously, wondering for a moment why on earth an _owl_ would be in Chicago when a letter fell, seemingly from the sky and into her lap._

…

_Amy smiled brightly as she looked up at the warm, brick building before her. The young witch shook her head as she took note of little first years running past her on their way up to the Academy before her eyes lit up as she caught sight of Serena Litzgo and their roommates, Cece "Blondie" Fitzherbert and Brigette Miles. She waved cheerfully at the witches before grabbing her bag and making her way towards the trio, the sun gleaming prideful off of her Head Girl badge._

…

_She dropped her messenger bag onto the teacher's desk before turning around to face the students of the class._

_"Good Morning! My name is Professor Wyman, and I am going to be your Charms teacher," Amy smiled at the class._

…

_"Mr. Weasley!" Amy called as he began to walk away. He turned back for a moment. "Please, it's rather odd to have someone the same age as me call me professor." He laughed. "It's Amy."_

_"Of course," Charlie said a small smile on his face. "Good night then __Amy."_

…

_"So Amy," Georgie said, twirling a dark lock of hair around her finger, "Any cute boys over there?" she winked before laughing, the other girls joining in._

_"You and Rose are so alike," Amy noted, shaking her head. Georgie hands covered her chest in shock._

_"How dare you compare me to your sister!" she joked. The girls laughed. "But really," Georgie asked, now serious. "Any cute boys?" Katherine and Michelle turned to Amy, eyebrows raised._

_"Guys," Amy began slowly, "I am a teacher. The oldest of my students are seventeen, which isn't even the legal age. The only other guys at the school are old enough to my grandfather."_

_"Well that's a shame," Michelle commented, taking a sip from her cup._

…

_"You're not like most teachers though," Charlie said, glancing at her._

_"No, I'm not," Amy admitted shamelessly, staring at the maze that was dancing in the summer breeze. "But that's a good thing, right?" Amy asked, tearing her gaze away from the hedges and towards Charlie who looked back at her._

_"A very good thing," he said softly. Their gazes locked, hazel and blue, staring into the others' eyes. Subconsciously, the two leaned forward slightly, their faces nearing each other's in the shadow of the bleachers._

…

_"Professor, are you asking me to join this Order?" Amy questioned, a bit surprised that this man had such loyalty in her, despite the fact that he hadn't known her for long. She herself didn't believe she was capable of being much help._

_"Miss Wyman," Dumbledore implored, reading her mind, "the loyalty and trust you showed me the night of the third task is why I am asking you to join. You stood beside me even after I told you nothing, staring into the face of a mad man, and then suffering before a dementor on my orders." Amy began to protest, but Dumbledore plowed on._

_"I am asking you to join the Order of the Phoenix because I trust you," he finished, staring at her seriously. "I leave the choice up to you."_

…

_"Charlie," she whispered softly, staring up into his eyes. His normal bright blue eyes were dark and staring soulfully into hers, glancing at her lips momentarily before back into her eyes._

_"Amy," he murmured, just as gently, lowering his face closer to hers, he felt her warm breath on his cheek. Their eyes connected once more, before he leaned down a little further, tentatively pressing his lips to hers._

…

_"What do you think I've been doing, Charlie?" she whispered hoarsely. "What do you think I've been doing since you left? I've been sitting in that damn castle waiting. Waiting for you to come back, waiting for something good to happen to me, waiting for the pain that you caused to leave… I've just been waiting." Charlie hard face softened as tears coursed down Amy's face, her resolve beginning to crumble._

_"Amy," Charlie murmured reaching a hand out to touch her, but she jerked away._

_"I'm-I'm sorry, Charlie," she whispered, wiping at her tears. _

…

_"Complete," Charlie finished, turning around to face Amy who stared up at him, a smile tugging at her lips. "You make me feel complete and whole, and I don't care how cliché that sounds. I'll tell the entire world, Wizarding and Muggle, that you, Amy Wyman, make me feel complete." His voice trailed down until it was a whisper, and the only reason that Amy could hear him was because he was leaning down, his lips brushing the outside of her ear, her hand resting on his chest, shivering from the feel of his breath against the sensitive skin of her neck._

_"How about instead of telling everyone," Amy said, raising her eyebrows slightly. "You kiss me instead." Charlie playfully tapped his chin in pretend thought._

_"I guess I could handle that," Charlie said, leaning down to kiss her as her eyes fluttered down._

…

_"Michelle," Amy said urgently, "Michelle, listen to me. I can promise you right now that no matter what is going on with you right now, it's not bad enough that you should be thinking about that. I swear."_

_"What if it is?" Michelle asked weakly, and Amy felt her throat close tightly at the sound of her friend's tear-thick voice._

_Amy swallowed, tears welling up in her eyes as she glanced over at her bedroom door, before gripping the Muggle phone tightly in her hands. _

_"If it's as bad as you think it is," Amy said softly, her voice cracking and gruff from the tears in her throat and eyes. "It can only get better."_

…

_"You suppose?" he asked, an eyebrow cocked as he looked down at the drowsy witch. "What does that mean?"_

_Amy smiled teasingly up at him. "It means that I may be more inclined to forgive you if you stopped talking and kissed me." Charlie smirked at her but leaned down nonetheless to kiss her softly, as the rain and sleet continued to pour down around them. _

_..._

_"You're being unreasonable," Charlie told the witch._

_"You're only saying that because you know I'm right," Amy shot back. "You know that things may have been different if you hadn't come here today. You know I could have protected her if I hadn't let you distract me. My students needed me but I was too busy being a couple with you, and no matter what you say, that won't change."_

_"You're right," Charlie agreed, leaning down until he was but inches from the witches face. "Nothing I say will change what happened, and nothing you say will change it either." _

…

_"It's not Charlie, princess."_

…

_Avery trailed his hand over the witch's face, softly, gently, almost as though he were her lover, and he slowly traced over one of the cuts on her face, ignoring her flinch at the sting. "I can't wait to cast that spell. I can't wait to watch as the life leaves your eyes and your heart stops beating beneath your chest." He trailed his hand down her face and to the rip neckline of her shirt. Without a pause, he slipped his hand under her shirt and pressed his hand against her chest, right above her heart. He pressed down slightly so that his nails pierced her clammy, slick skin, and she jumped slightly at the pinch. He withdrew his hand teasingly and now moved it so that he was gripping her wrist tightly in his hand._

…_._

_Mudblood._

…

_"No one will care that you're gone, because no one cares now," he said softly. "Why prolong the inevitable when there's nothing worth living for because you are worth nothing." He clicked his tongue on the last syllable and Amy cringed as the words stuck in her mind, burning her thoughts._

_He was right, wasn't he? Who knew how long she had been down in this basement, and yet there was not a hint of anyone out there looking for her. It was like everyone had forgotten she had even existed… Maybe Avery was right…_

_The wizard straightened up and pointed his wand at the witch. He cocked his head as she sat there, staring blankly up at him. Amy didn't fully comprehend the look of pure joy in his eyes as he raised his wand a bit higher, and his mouth began to form the words. Words that were to be the last Amy ever heard._

_The witch shut her eyes painfully waiting for the wizard to finish his words. Waiting for the end of his words and her inevitable end. She couldn't believe this was how she was going to go. She had always had this idea of herself growing old, rocking back and forth on a rickety chair on a porch somewhere. She supposed everyone had thoughts like that, she just wished she would have had the chance to fulfill those dreams._

_There was a sudden noise from upstairs that gave Amy a start, and her eyes flew open wide. For a moment, the witch thought Avery's curse had missed, somehow hitting the ceiling, but instead she found the wizard staring up at the ceiling, just as surprised as she was. The two sat there in silence for several moments, listening to the sounds above them. There were thuds and crashes and the occasional showering of dust from the ceiling._

_Amy felt a sudden surge of hope well up inside of her, as a muted cry resounded through the room. A voice she clearly recognized as Nymphadora Tonks's. The witch let out a little gasp of disbelief, her eyes filling up with wonder as Avery glared angrily at the ceiling. He muttered something under his breath, turning away from the witch to look up the stairs. Amy took note of the wizard's turned back and she felt strength build up inside of her. With what little energy the witch had left within her, Amy leaped at the wizard, her arms outstretched. _

_Avery turned as she flew at him, catching him around the middle and throwing him off balance. The two crumbled to the dirty ground in a mess of nails and pent-up anger. Amy managed to get on top of the wizard, her nails like claws as she struggled to hold him down. She threw an anxious look over her shoulder at the door and then up at the ceiling where she could still hear crashes and curses. Amy's attention was drawn back to the wizard beneath her as he managed to wrap his arms tightly around her wrists, stopping her from gouging out his eyes. Avery smirked as Amy struggled on top of him. _

_With a surge of power, the wizard managed to flip them so that he was now straddling Amy's waist and he pinned her arms to the side of her head. _

"_Fucking witch," he hissed at her. "Why won't you just die?" He tightened his hold on her wrists and Amy could practically feel the bruises blooming across her tender skin. She let out a sharp moan as his nails dug into her skin, and he sneered at her evilly. He forced her hands a little further into the ground, putting almost all of his weight into it. _

_Gritting her teeth, Amy brought her knee up, managing to hit the wizard in the groin. Avery's face scrunched together in terribly pain and his grip on Amy's wrists loosened. Taking his lapse in restraint, Amy pushed the Death Eater off of her forcefully. As Avery's head snapped back into the ground and he let out a painful groan, Amy scrambled off the ground, her legs trembling and shaking beneath her. She stumbled towards the staircase, reaching out to grasp the worn railing in her hand, when she felt something wrap around her ankle. She let out a cry as her foot was pulled out from under her and she fell face first onto the cellar floor. On her way down, the witch's head caught the corner of the staircase and stars flashed before her eyes. The witch groaned and she rolled over onto her side, her eyes growing heavy as she felt blood slip down her face._

_In between her labored breaths and foggy mind, Amy heard Avery stagger to his feet. The witch managed to focus on the ceiling above her, from which she could see the faint glow of curses through the cracks in the wood. Her head was pounding furiously and she saw Avery approach her slowly from the corner of her eye. He stopped just next to her, glare down at her. As he passed, the wizard kicked his foot out, hitting the witch sharply in the head and she felt her consciousness quickly ebb away._

…

Amy stirred slightly, her eyes flickering in the darkness, and she allowed herself to be pulled into consciousness. Slowly, Amy's eyes fluttered opening, though she squinted at the orange glow that filled the room, no matter how soft it was. The witch groaned as she turned her head, feeling all of her muscles scream in protest at the slight movement. She squinted as she took note of the candle burning next to her and it was then that Amy realized she was not in fact shivering on a basement floor. In fact, it seemed as though she were laying on a soft surface, almost like a mattress, surrounded by warmth on all sides.

Amy opened her eyes a bit more now and peered into the darkness of the room, trying to figure out exactly where she was. The witch grasped at the material of the blankets on top of her weary form, and she froze for instead of feeling the warm material of the comforters on top of her, the witch instead felt the firm, calloused hand of a stranger. Slowly, Amy turned so that she was facing the side of the bed with the candle, and in the flame's faint glow, she saw the outline of a figure, watching her intently. Immediately, Amy tensed, pulling away from the shadowy figure, as fear began to course through her. She had no idea where she was, and she had just spent days locked in a basement where she was tortured day in and day out. How could she be sure that she was safe? What if this was just another trick of Avery's? What if it was just someone else coming to torture her?

"Amy," the figure spoke softly, breaking the night silence of the room. "Amy, it's me, Charlie." The figure leaned forward slowly, the glow from the moon and candle illuminating his features. Amy felt her breath catch in her throat as Charlie's handsome face bloomed out of the darkness, sculpted with worry and fear.

"Charlie," she whispered breathily. Weakly, the witch raised her hand, creeping towards his face with outstretched fingers. Her cold fingertips burned as the came in contact with his warm skin, and Charlie leaned into her touch, savoring the feel. "Is this a dream?"

Charlie laughed breathily, still in shock that the witch was talking and breathing, and he shook his head.

"No," he told her softly, his eyes roaming over her exhausted, pale face. "This isn't a dream. I'm really here. _You're_ really here." He gripped her hand tightly in his before leaning over to kiss her softly on the lips. He pulled back after a moment and rested his forehead against hers. He stared down at her, catching her bright eyes in his, and the witch gave him a faint smile.

"You found me," she breathed finally, and her fingers trailed softly over Charlie's jawline, feeling the prickle of hairs. He had obviously not shaved in a few days, and Amy found that she didn't really care at all. All she cared about was that Charlie was there next to her.

"Of course I did," he murmured back, raising a hand of his own to brush across Amy's face. "I couldn't let those bastards keep you, now could I?" Amy laughed weakly at his attempt at humor, gasping suddenly as a sharp pain shot through her stomach.

"Sorry, sorry," he apologized hurriedly, moving his hand away from her face to rest gently on her stomach. He paused briefly for a moment, that image of her with the swollen stomach flashing through his mind again, before he leaned down, kissing her fiercely, all of his feelings pouring out of him. Amy gasped and the suddenness of the kiss before she kissed him back, just as intensely. Weakly, the witch managed to lace her fingers through the soft hairs at the nape of his neck, and she pulled him closer, relishing the feel as she managed to deepen the kiss.

Charlie pulled back eventually, reluctantly as well, but knowing that the witch was exhausted and his Mum would kill him if she didn't get her rest. As he did so, Amy moaned at the loss of his lips, and Charlie couldn't help but smile at the pout that spread across her face.

"You should get some rest," he told her quietly, tracing a pink cut on the side of her cheek. Amy groaned in disagreement, weakly pulling on his arm as she shook her head.

"No, no, I'm fine, really," she muttered, her eyes drooping slightly. She widened her eyes as much as she could to ward off her sleep. "But Charlie listening to me." The wizard cocked his head, his forehead crinkling together as he looked at the witch curiously. She took a deep, painful breath before continuing. "About that day at Hogwarts, after the incident with Katie in Hogsmeade-" Charlie began to cut her off, but Amy just kept on talking, "- you were right. I was being unreasonable. I shouldn't have blamed you for what happened. Neither of us could have known what would happen to Katie and it wasn't fair of me to blame you, and I'm so-"

"Amy!" Charlie proclaimed softly, sufficiently breaking into the middle of the witch's apology. She looked at him with wide eyes, not really knowing why he had interrupted her. Charlie sighed and smiled a bit. "You don't have to apologize," he reassured her. "You were upset and something terrible had just happened to someone who you felt a responsibility towards. You're the kind of person who takes responsibility for anything that happens to anyone you care about, and I shouldn't have held that against you. You shouldn't have to apologize for being you, because I love you. Even when you're being snappy or you're stressed or you're laughing or covered in splotches of ink from grading essays, I love you."

The witch's eyes were very wide by the end of his monologue, and Charlie could clearly see tears building up in her eyes as the words struck a chord within her. She gave him a watery smile before leaning forward as though she was going to tell him a secret.

"I love you too," she murmured, and Charlie smiled brightly.

"I know," he replied, stroking her hair back from her face. Amy's eyes shut and she let out a little hum of contentment at the feel of his hand slipping through her hair. The witch burrowed herself back into the pillows, the blankets bunched up around her chest, and very quickly, Amy slipped back into her dreams, though they were peaceful for the first time in weeks.

Charlie watched the witch for a few minutes, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest beneath the covers, as he reassured himself that she was really there. Eventually, the wizard felt the late hour of the night settle into his body, and his eyes began to droop dangerously. Not wanting to fall asleep in the chair at the side of the bed and wake up with a terrible kink in his neck, Charlie blew out the candle on the nightstand, sending the bedroom into darkness. For a moment, he considered leaving Amy alone, so as to let her get some sleep in peace, but he pushed that thought away, fearful that if he left her for a moment that she would disappear again, and he didn't think he could handle that. Instead, Charlie settled himself onto the other side of the bed, near the wall. He climbed his way to the head of the bed, and leaned back into the pillows with a sigh. Then, he wrapped his arms around Amy, who slept through this, pulling her close to his chest. His hands warm against the cool skin of her bared waist and the wizard felt his shirt ride up slightly, the smooth skin of Amy's back brushing against his. Carefully so as to avoid the many bruises that covered her torso, Charlie leaned over her to grab the blanket, and he pulled it over them, reveling in the feel of her body pressed against him for the first time in ages.

Slowly, Charlie's eyes began to droop shut until they were open just enough to see a soft beam of moon from the window. Eventually, the wizard shut his eyes completely, allowing himself to drift to sleep as he listened to Amy's soft breathing, his own breath soon matching hers.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Well.. there's some Amy/Charlie fluffiness. It's late here or else I would give ya'll a little spiel or something... Don't forget to review!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	57. Chapter 56

**AN:** Hello one and all, and welcome back to another exciting (not really) chapter of... HERE FOR YOU. Right... well... I'm tired (as always) so here ya go!

**Dedication:** To sleep... Sweet, sweet sleep.

**Disclaimer:**I own nothing you recognize.

* * *

><p>"What do you think you're doing?"<p>

Amy bit her cheek to hold back the groan that was bubbling up in her throat, and she squeezed her eyes shut, wishing that she could turn herself invisible in the moment. She opened an eye a smidge and looked down to see if her wish had come true, but alas she could still see her pale skin clothed in an old pair of pajama pants and Charlie's shirt.

She turned slowly on her heel so that she was facing Charlie who had his arms crossed over his chest with an expectant look on his face. Amy looked from side to side before allowing an innocent smile to break across her face.

"Looking for you, of course!" Amy answered in a bright, high voice. She laughed lightly. "What else would I be doing?"

Charlie smirked at her from his spot against the wall outside his bedroom before taking a few steps towards the witch. "Trying to escape even though you know you should be resting," he told her plainly, not believing for a moment that the smile on her face had a trace of honesty.

Amy managed to uphold her innocent expression for a few minutes more before she cracked, pouting as she looked up at the wizard grumpily. "You used the word escape there," she told him. "Obviously that means that I would much rather not be here."

"But that doesn't mean that you should be up and about the Burrow," Charlie responded. He laced his fingers through Amy's and gently pulled her away from the stairs. She sighed heavily in disappointment, but she allowed him to lead her back towards his bedroom anyway, knowing that there was no way she'd be able to win this argument.

It had been like this for several days now. The Burrow was relatively empty as the younger Weasleys and guests had all returned to Hogwarts for the new semester. Amy had hoped to also be returning to the school at the same time, but this hope had been shot down by several people, which included, but were not limited to, Molly and Charlie. The duo had insisted that the witch not be moved around, saying that she still needed time to heal, and they both would prefer the healing to be done under the watchful eye of Mama Weasley. Even Professor Dumbledore had encouraged her to take some more time off, explaining that she had done so much already that she deserved some time to rest, especially after everything she had been through. When Amy had protested this, reminding the Headmaster that she was still a teacher and was expected to be back with her students, Dumbledore had insisted that it would be alright and would tell the school that some family issues had arrived and she needed to take care of them.

So, while Amy was pleased to be able to have some time off to recuperate after everything she had been through, she wasn't exactly happy that she also had to deal with Molly's and Charlie incessant coddling. She loved them both and was so incredibly appreciative of everything they had done for her, but at the same time, she was a grown woman. She didn't need to be watched every moment of every day, and she certainly didn't need to be confined to her bed for two weeks. The witch had said it once and she would say it every day until she died: she didn't rest well in bed. Maybe for the first few days while she was still regaining her strength, but once she had gotten some rest and a few good meals in her, Amy really didn't think it was necessary for her to be stuck in bed all day. She could at least be doing some sort of busy-work around the house, cleaning or cooking (not really though, because she was a horrible cook), anything to repay Molly and Arthur for their hospitality and care. Instead though, Molly and Charlie had forced the witch to remain in bed, day in and day out, until they both deemed it safe for her to emerge, and it was a though every time the witch managed to get out of the bed to stretch or doing something that didn't involve her burrowed in pillows and blankets, Charlie or his mother would appear and she would be back in her comfy dungeon in a flash.

Amy had tried to convince the two on several occasions that it would be okay for her to be out and about, or at least to get out of bed without a chaperone, but the mother-son duo had ignored her. They both knew that Amy hated being confined, especially for so long, but after the events of the past few weeks, they didn't want to take the chance of anything happening to her again. Especially seeing as her cuts and bruises had just finished clearing up.

It was true that the various marks and wounds that had covered her body upon her arrival to the Burrow were mostly gone, but there were a few reminders from her time in the cellar with Avery and his companions that refused to leave her. Reminders that the witch was hesitant to share with the others in the Burrow.

The nightmares, for one, were something that Amy had been attempting to hide from the others. It seemed as though every night she awoke in a cold sweat, heart racing and eyes wide, truly believing that she was back in that cellar and that everything had simply been a dream, or a hallucination caused by whatever infection she may have had. It was only after several minutes of ragged pants and tortured memories that Amy would finally recognize the warmth of the sleeping wizard next to her and the overall comfort of the house, and she would gradually fall back into her pillows. Every night, she would lie there, listening to Charlie's deep breaths, while her mind replayed every memory, every dream, of the past few weeks and she would fiddle with her fingers and bite her lip anxiously before being pulled into a reluctant sleep. As for as she knew, Charlie had no idea that this happened or the comfort he provided her simply from lying next to her, and to be perfectly honest, if there was one thing Amy was not looking forward to about returning to Hogwarts, it was the nights that she would inevitably have to spend alone.

Aside from the nightmares, there was one other thing Amy was tentative about talking about with the others, and that was the word carved into her skin. The witch had noticed it the morning after her arrival at the Burrow. She had managed to convince Charlie that it would be the best for her to shower and remove all traces of the horrid basement from her body. The wizard had reluctantly agreed, still thinking that she should spend some more time resting, but he nonetheless helped her into the bathroom. It was after removing the pants that Molly had given her that Amy saw the word in flesh of her thigh.

It looked as though Molly had attempted to heal the wound completely but had only managed to clean it and repair it enough so that all that was left was scarring. The letters themselves were a pale white, much paler than Amy' normal, healthy skin tone and they seemed to shine in the dim lighting of the bathroom. The witch sat there on the edge of the tub for some time, tracing the scarred letters for so long that by the time she had gotten into the shower, the water was cold.

The witch wasn't so much upset by the scarring as much as she was about how Charlie would react when he found out. True, he wasn't one to focus entirely on appearances and he had his fair share of scars from working in Romania as well, but his scars weren't derogatory terms cruelly carved into his skin that declared his blood status to the world. In all honesty, Amy was more afraid that this brand would awaken Charlie to the idea that she wasn't worthy of him. There had been that time during the summer, after the incident with Adam Moore at the bar, where Charlie was convinced that his social status made him unworthy of _her_, but Amy felt as though her scarring could be the catalyst for Charlie, telling him that he should leave her because she wasn't worth his time.

Of course Amy knew that Charlie loved her, that much was obvious in the way he had been fussing around her since she had arrived at the Burrow, but just because he loved her didn't mean that he didn't deserve better, and this scar… well, it certainly made Amy think long and hard about just that.

These were the thoughts that were going through Amy's head as Charlie led her back to his room, determined to put her back into bed where he was sure she'd be safe and sound. Amy didn't mind Charlie's protectiveness and she understood his reasons behind it, but after being locked in that basement for more than a week it was making her a little – very – stir-crazy about being stuck in Charlie's room all day, every day. She needed a bit of freedom, some time out in the sun and sun, but neither Charlie nor Molly agreed with this assessment in the slightest.

Charlie seemed to note Amy's change in mood and he squeezed her hand as he pulled her through the door to his bedroom. Amy looked up at him and gave the wizard a faint smile which he returned, though it was fully-lit.

"I know it's not ideal, love," Charlie admitted, stopping just in front of the door so he could grasp Amy's other hand. "But try and cheer up, for my sanity and for everyone else's? Mum would flip if she found you out of bed, and while I know you hate this, we're just trying to be cautious."

"Cautious doesn't always mean boring," Amy contradicted with a pointed look. "I mean it's bad enough that I have to stay in bed, but do I also have to die of boredom at the same time? You and Molly barely let me touch a book because you're afraid I'll get a mortal paper cut. Are you guys even going to let me go back to Hogwarts without a full time bodyguard?"

Charlie ignored the witch's question and instead used his grip on her hands to pull her closer until he was able to wrap his arms around her waist. He leaned down so that his mouth was just next to her ear and the wizard nuzzled the shell of her ear teasingly. Amy shivered in his arms before casting a worried look at the open door behind her.

"It doesn't have to be boring," Charlie murmured, his warm breath causing hairs to stand up on the back of her neck. "We could have some fun."

Amy narrowed her eyes and looked curiously at the wizard. "What kind of fun?" she asked hesitantly, searching Charlie's bright mischievous eyes for an answer. The man winked at her before leaning even closer to her so that his lips were just inches from her. Immediately, realization struck the witch and she bit her lip in anticipation.

"The best kind," Charlie whispered to her. His eyes twinkled even more as he leaned down all the way so that his lips were pressed against hers. Amy shut her eyes tightly at the feel of Charlie's lips fiercely on hers, and a warm, tingling sensation spread through her body. Amy reached her hands up and laced her fingers through Charlie's hair. The wizard's hands fell from low on her hips now, gripping her waist tightly.

With his hands on the rise of her pants, Charlie pulled the witch even closer to him so that they were pressed together, their chests flush to each other. Amy let her hands fall from Charlie's hair and onto his chest, her nails gently digging into the soft material of his shirt, beneath which she could feel the taut muscles from years of hard work in Romania. She used her grip on his shirt to pull him even closer so that her arms were trapped against her chest and their lips moved passionately together. This was the first time since Amy had arrived at the Burrow that the couple had had any time to themselves. It seemed as though that at every moment of the day Amy was being checked up on by someone, and this had definitely cut into Amy and Charlie's couple-y time. It didn't help that Charlie had more than the average number of siblings, and it was as though at every turn there was another redhead eager to interrupt them or pull a new prank or something else of the like. It had obviously been far too long since the witch and wizard had been together and they were completely willing to take advantage of the time now.

Amy gasped loudly as Charlie pulled his lips away from her suddenly, and she had barely opened her mouth to protest when the wizard pressed his lips now to the line of her jaw, suckling slightly on the soft skin. Amy moaned, her grip on his shirt tightening as she shivered as the air of the room sent chills down her back as Charlie moved down her neck. The witch let out a few shuddering gasps as Charlie continued to kiss her neck, alternating between sharp nips and gentle kisses, and she threw her head back as he bit down on a particularly sensitive spot on her neck. As she did so, Amy's attention was drawn towards the open door just behind them.

"Charlie," Amy gasped, her grip still tight on the wizard's shirt. "Charlie." He hummed in response, the vibrations running through his lips and into her body. Amy's eyes fluttered a bit but she didn't close them. "Charlie, the door," she told him breathily. She glanced again at the door but couldn't convince herself to remove an arm from the embrace to pull it closed. Even if she had, she didn't think she would be able to reach the door.

The wizard in response merely grumbled under his breath and continued to kiss his way back up her neck. "What about it?" he asked in between kisses.

Amy rolled her eyes a bit. "It's open!" she said, her voice still light and breathy from the shivers running through her body. "Anyone could see us!" The witch didn't think she would be able to live with the embarrassment of being caught making out by one of Charlie's parents or a sibling. It was one thing with her family because she knew they really didn't care what she got up to as long as she was safe, but Charlie's family was much different. She didn't want Molly or Arthur or anyone else for that matter to think anything bad of her.

"There's no one here," Charlie reminded her, still not focusing on anything other than placing kisses across the witch's neck and shoulders. "No one's going to see us!"

The witch's eyes widened and she moved her hands up from his chest and around his neck. Pulling on the hairs at the nape of his neck, Amy pulled his head away from her neck so that she could meet his eyes. Their chests were rising and falling heavily against each other and their breath was labored from the desire and passion coursing through them. Charlie looked highly disgruntled at having been pulled out of his tedious work, and it was only the knowledge of the open door and the fact that any Weasley could walk in at any moment that kept Amy from diving in and kissing Charlie's lips once more.

"They could be home at any second," Amy told him in between breaths. "Do you really want to take that chance?" Charlie narrowed his eyes a bit, glaring at the open door behind them before looking back at the witch's eyes. Behind the layer of exasperation at the thought of the door being left open, Charlie was clearly able to identify the need and love hidden in the witch's lovely irises. The wizard could have sworn he felt his heart skip a few beats at those feelings burrowed within the passionate witch's eyes and he felt his own need and love increase by a tenfold.

With a low growl in the bottom of his throat, Charlie moved his hands even lower on the witch's waist, and grasping her thighs, he pulled her legs up and around his waist. Amy let out a little noise of surprise as she crossed her ankles behind his back, and Charlie moved them back until he was able to kick the door closed. As the door slammed, Amy jumped slightly before she found herself pressed against the wood of the now closed door, and Charlie's lips were upon hers once more, molding passionately against hers. The witch moaned loudly into the kiss, her hands now wound through Charlie's hair as she kept him close to her. Together, the couple deepened the kiss, both of them reveling in the pleasure that was rolling through their bodies.

Charlie moved his hands off the witch's thighs and over her waist, so that he could grip the hem of her shirt in his hands. Feeling the warmth of his fingers just under her shirt, Amy pulled away from wizard, far enough that he was able to life the shirt up and over her head in a flash before their lips were connected again. Charlie splayed his hands against her back, slowly moving up and down rhythmically, and Amy's hands in turn found their way out of his hair and to his jaw, cupping his cheek in her hands. She pulled away a bit to smile at the man, their noses brushing just briefly before their lips collided again.

Moving one hand off of her back and onto her waist, Charlie pulled Amy away from the door, refusing to break the kiss even as she giggled, and he made his way over towards the bed. Carefully, the wizard lowered her onto the bed, their lips never pulling apart, before he climbed onto the bed as well so that he was resting between the witch's legs

The couple continued to kiss for several more minutes, their hands roaming over the other, as passion and love filled the room. Slowly, Charlie's hands moved away from Amy's back and onto the waist band of her pants. Slipping his fingertips just under the elastic, the wizard started to slowly push the material down. Almost immediately, any pleasure that had been coursing through the witch vanished as panic seemed to strike her, and she remembered the scarred writing imbedded on her flesh. Charlie had barely moved the waistband an inch before Amy's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, stopping his movements.

Charlie looked up at her, his eyes still filled with passion but curious as to why the witch had stopped him. His eyebrow quirked up as he looked at her questioningly and Amy bit her lip tentatively in response. Though her grip was loose on the wizard's wrist, she was still able to pull his hand away from the waist of her pants. She hated to do this, because she had missed being with him in so many ways, and she hated to take this opportunity away, but at the same time, the witch was nowhere close to being ready to show him the words carved into her skin. Perhaps there was some charm to conceal the scar but until then, she was just going to have to hide them.

"I'm sorry," Amy whispered. Her breath was still ragged and it felt as though there was a lump in her throat at the hurt expression on Charlie's face. "I just – I…" She trailed off, not knowing what she should say. The witch knew she should be honest with the man but at the same time she needed some time to heal. Yes, she had been complaining about all the unnecessary coddling she had been receiving, but that wasn't the kind of healing she was talking about. No, she still needed some time to recover mentally.

Charlie immediately pulled further away from the witch, not catching onto the hesitancy or catch in her voice. Instead, he felt anxiety fill him to the brim, pushing away everything he had been feeling moments ago. Perhaps he had hurt the woman or pushed her too far. This wasn't their first time, but it was the first time after her kidnapping, and he didn't want her to do anything before she was ready. That had been the whole point of keeping her as confined to his room as possible.

"Oh Merlin, Amy," Charlie muttered. "I didn't hurt you, did I? We should have waited until you were completely healed, I'm so sorry." Amy's eyes grew wide at the wizard's words and she shook her head quickly.

"No, no, Charlie," she protested quietly. "You didn't hurt me, you could never hurt me. It's just… I think I still need a bit more time, after the past few weeks. Like you said, I'm not completely healed, but you did nothing to hurt me, I swear."

Charlie nodded slowly, hesitantly, as he mulled over the witch's words. Carefully, inch by inch, the wizard began to pull away until he was no longer hovering over the witch but sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. Amy sat up and watched the wizard's face curiously wanting to know what was running through his mind. She hadn't wanted to hurt him, which was the reason why she had pulled away. She didn't want him to see the complete damage that had been inflicted on her.

"Still," Charlie said softly, gazing at the witch with soulful eyes. "I'm sorry." Amy suspected there may have been some deeper meaning behind these words, but she dismissed that thought, not wanting to delve into that just yet.

"Don't be sorry," she told him, reaching out to place a warm hand on his forearm. "Don't ever be sorry for loving me, and don't ever stop. Just – " She broke off and looked down at the warm afghan she had become accustomed to lately.

"Just what?" Charlie asked curiously, cocking his head as he stared at the witch's down-turned head. Amy took a breath and looked up at him, a faint smile making its way across her face.

"Just hold me," she finished lightly. Charlie looked at her curiously for a moment more before nodding, and the witch's smile brightened. He reached over the bed to grab Amy's shirt, which she pulled on. Slowly, Amy scooted until her back was pressed against the pillows before outstretching her arms and gesturing for Charlie to join her. The wizard paused for a moment before following the witch's orders, and he moved his way to the head of the bed. Together, the couple settled back into the pillows, their arms wrapped tightly around each other.

This wasn't exactly how either of them had expected to spend what little free time they had, but they weren't exactly going to complain. After all, they had each other.

…..

Much to Charlie's chagrin he was unable to spend every single day with Amy while she healed. While he had sworn to stay with her until she was completely better and ready to go back to work, the wizard was forced to rethink this which his boss had threatened to fire him unless he started to come back into work. Charlie would admit that he thought about this, only to be reprimanded by Molly and Amy who ordered him to go back to work.

"Amy will be fine!" Molly had insisted. "I'll be here all day with her. She'll never be out of my sights."

Amy had agreed with the Weasley witch, although she wasn't too happy about Molly's rules. Yet, she too insisted Charlie got back to work, telling him that she was mostly healed anyway and the only healing left to really do was sleep and grade whatever papers were forwarded onto her.

"Plus," Amy told him, "I still have to deal with my mom and her worries about all this." To say the witch wasn't exactly pleased that Charlie had told her family she had gone missing was an understatement. She understood that he had been worried about her and that he thought it was for the best, but now, Amy had to deal with her mother's paranoia and insistent letters and Floo-calls. She supposed it was fortunate that she was in a Wizard household and not her apartment or else she would be stuck on the phone with her Mom for hours on end. Amy dreaded the moment that her Mom and Molly would meet; she would be coddled and probably sentenced to bed rest for the rest of her life simply because that's what the mothers wanted.

So during the free time that had begun to accumulate while Charlie and the others were at work and school, Molly and Amy had been spending a lot of time together, perhaps even too much. Molly would usually come in, either with a basket of laundry or whatever knitting project she was working on, and she would sit in a chair by Amy's bed while the younger witch worked on grading assignments and her lesson plans for when she got back to Hogwarts. During this time, the two witches talked of nothing ever of any importance, but it was still nice to be able to sit there and talk to someone, even if it was about recipes and crafting patterns, which is what the majority of the conversations were. The minority of conversations though always seemed to blow Amy away, taking her completely by surprise, much like the conversation of this particular day.

Molly and Amy had spent the last ten minutes or so talking about their families. Molly told Amy about her brothers, Fabian and Gideon, and all the mischief they had gotten up to, and Amy in return told Molly about Rose, Eric, and Rich. While the mother was incredibly interested to hear about Amy's family and what growing up in the Muggle world had been like, she was much more interested to hear about how Rose was already married and how the other relationships played into the Wyman family dynamics.

"So how long has your sister been married?" Molly asked lightly, folding a shirt into a tidy square of cloth. Amy paused and mulled the question over for a moment. She was working on braiding her hair, something she had picked up long ago as a nervous trait or just something to keep her hands busy.

"Maybe four years now," Amy told the witch. "It hasn't been too long but they were practically married even before the wedding, so it wasn't that a big a change really." Molly smiled and nodded in understanding as she reached down to grab another article of clothing that needed to be folded.

"And do your parents like him?" Molly asked. Amy smiled a bit and nodded.

"Oh yes," the witch smiled. "They considered him a son long before the wedding, so I would so that they do." Amy began to unravel her hair now, running her fingers through the tresses to straighten them out before starting again.

Part. Twist. Over. Twist. Over. Repeat.

Molly bit her lip coyly before looking at Amy from the corner of her eye. Precariously, she began to fold another shirt.

"And what about you?" She asked carefully. Amy furrowed her eyebrows a bit and looked curiously at the witch.

Part. Twist. Over. Twist. Over. Repeat.

"Do I like him?" Amy asked weirdly. "I mean, David a great guy, and he's-"

"No, no, no," Molly broke in hurriedly. "I meant, have you been thinking about marriage?"

Part. Twist. Over. Twis- _What?_

Amy choked a bit as her fingers froze in her hair, tangled in the curls, as she turned to look at the Weasley witch.

"Excuse me?" Amy asked, her voice half-hollow and half-filled with shock. "What do-I mean- it's pos-what?" Molly laughed loudly, letting her half-folded shirt fall from her hands as she shook her head humorously at Amy.

"Oh come on now, dear," Molly said in between giggles. "You and Charlie have been together for a year now! It's beyond obvious how in love you two are!" She laughed as Amy turned bright red and began to stutter. "It's nothing to be embarrassed of! I thought Charlie was going to live his entire life surrounded by dragons. You have no idea how relieved I was to see him so flustered around you! He's never been this way around a girl before, and you have no idea how happy I am that that girl is you." Amy's blush toned down a bit and she smiled softly.

"Right," Amy said softly, looking down at the blanket strewn across her lap. "Well, I don't think we'll have to worry about that any time soon, so…" Amy trailed off awkwardly and scratched behind her ear. Molly looked as though she had more to say on the subject but she bit the inside of her cheek and started off on a different rampage, though the blush on Amy's cheeks did not die down for some time.

…..

Amy nestled herself back into the pillows of Charlie's bed, waiting for the wizard to return. He hadn't even been home for some time before he was being summoned by his mother to assist her with some chore. It happened almost every day, but that didn't make the witch's wait any less impatient but it did give her some time to think. Particularly about a certain conversation Amy had had with Molly.

To say the topic of her and Charlie getting married was abrupt would be an understatement, and it had certainly blown Amy away. It didn't help that the questioned had been posed by Charlie's mother. Amy knew that Molly's mind revolved around her children and their love lives, but she didn't expect her to be so bold about bringing the topic of marriage up to her, someone she barely even knew. It was a bit embarrassing, talking to Molly about her and her son's relationship, but at the same time it made Amy think.

The witch had never really considered the issue of marriage. She had always known that she wanted to get married, live in a house, maybe have a few kids, but she didn't think any of that would be happening so early in her life. Amy knew that people in the Wizarding world got married younger than in the Muggle world – Fleur and Bill were a prime example of that – but Amy didn't exactly think she would follow that same trait. Of course, that was before Charlie… Charlie was everything she could ever want and more, and she supposed that was the reason that she hadn't run screaming in the opposite direction the moment Molly made mention of marriage. Charlie was intelligent and respectful, but at the same time, he knew how to take a joke, knew how to _make_ a joke, and he was the most stable thing in her life at the moment. It, of course, didn't hurt that he was devilishly handsome, but more importantly, he was what she had imagined growing up. All those fairy tales and teenage romance books that talked about the hero who saved the day or the guy who was so dorky, so wrong, that you never thought you'd fall for him, but yet turns out to be _the _one, that's what Charlie was for Amy. Charlie was that hero, he was the dork who you couldn't help but fall in love with. It was…inevitable but so totally right that everything else seemed wrong.

Amy pushed these thoughts away as Charlie padded back into the room. His shoulders were slumped and he had this comical look of exhaustion on his face, no doubt from whatever mundane task his mother had forced him into. Pulling off his work robes that covered his shirt and slacks, Charlie threw himself onto the bed face first, where he groaned and muttered into the duvet for several minutes before looking up at the witch with a pout that she couldn't help but find adorable.

"I hate everything," he groaned, and Amy laughed lightly and poked his foot out from under the covers to kick him a bit. He looked up at her, and she raised an eyebrow in return. "Except you," he amended hurriedly. "I love you." Amy nodded her head understandingly and smiled even wider before reaching across the bed to grab Charlie's arm. She tugged on his forearm until he climbed to the head of the bed, collapsing against the pillows next to her. He sighed in contentment, allowing the troubles and worries of his day to wash away, and he rested his head on Amy's shoulder, their hands gripped tightly together over the covers, just as they should be.

And Amy supposed that she wouldn't mind being married if this was what every day of her life was like. Her and Charlie, totally and completely in love.

…..

For some reason unbeknownst to him, Charlie found himself unable to sleep several nights later. He had spent much of the day complaining about how exhausted he was and how much he just wanted to go home and sleep, and now that he was in bed, nestled up next to Amy and warm and cozy from head to toe, he found that sleep eluded him. He had tried everything but nothing seemed to work; he had counted dragons and switched position countless times, but his eyes seemed to refuse to grow heavy. Next to him, Amy made a noise in her sleep, and Charlie turned his head to look at the witch.

She had been getting better, day by day, and everyone suspected that she would soon be able to return to work. Amy, of course, was thrilled about this for anyone could see that she was going crazy stuck in the Burrow all day, every day, and while Charlie was also happy to see her recover so quickly, he couldn't help but be a tad worried. Since rescuing her from that basement and dealing with the emotional pain inflicted on the couple, he was hesitant to have her leave his sights. Of course, he knew Amy could take care of herself, anyone could see that, but that didn't mean she was invincible, and it didn't soothe Charlie's worries that he felt as though Amy was hiding something from him. It wasn't so much that he knew she was keeping something to herself but he had this gut feeling. Though she was still the Amy he knew and loved, something seemed different about her. She seemed more reserved at times, more hesitant about certain things, which he totally understood. She had been through so much, much more than any person should ever have to deal with, and she came out alive. Bruised and bloodied, but alive nonetheless, and Charlie supposed that if she needed sometime to regain her footing then he would give her all the time she needed. Hell, he would give her a lifetime if that's what she needed, as long as she let him help along the way.

Charlie broke away from these thoughts as Amy whimpered in her sleep. He looked over at her again, his forehead crinkled together with worry, as she tossed her head back and forth, her features scrunched together. She began to mutter in her sleep, and though he couldn't distinguish her words, the wizard knew that whatever dreams she was having were far from pleasant, and he knew this wasn't the first time this had happened either. The amount of times he had woken up to Amy thrashing in a sea of sheets and blankets, shivering and shaking in a cold sweat, were numerous, and it pained Charlie to know that there was little he could do. He literally had to lay there and watch as Amy was tormented by her memories and the pain she had experienced, and it made the wizard feel useless. There was so very little he could do for her except throw an arm around her and pull her into an embrace. Sometimes this would work and the witch would fall, but sometimes Amy's nightmares would continue, and he could do nothing but hold her as she tossed and turned and cried softly in her sleep.

It hurt Charlie so much to see Amy in so much pain, but he knew there was so little he could do until she opened up completely about everything that had happened to her. Yet, Charlie wasn't going to force her to tell him a thing. He trusted her, he loved her, and he knew she would tell him everything when she was ready, and he would be ready to hold her and love her unconditionally when she did.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>Kind of a mushy chapter, but who doesn't like mushy-gushy sweetness? Also... just throwing this out there, but kind of in love with the movie Pitch Perfect (jokes, more like Skylar Astin), so ya'll should go see it if you haven't already.

Aca-'scuse me?

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	58. Chapter 57

**AN:** Sorry it took me so long, guys! But here it is! And unfortunately... not to crazy-wacky.. Bit of a filler actually. BUT once we get passed the filler we can get into the good stuff... so.. on with the story?

**Dedication:** To my parents! Happy 23rd Anniversary!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize from Harry Potter.

* * *

><p>"Go fish," Amy ordered; she smirked as the wizard grumbled under his breath before reaching over the witch to grab a card from the pile between them. It was the weekend, and Amy and Charlie were once again alone in the Burrow. Charlie had once again managed to get off of work early since he knew his parents would be out of the house. Not wanting to leave the witch alone - which would inadvertently grant her the freedom to be as mischievous as she wanted – Charlie had pulled a few strings with some of the guys in the office, promising them that he would stay late for them in a few weeks if they covered him for the rest of the night. It hadn't been easy, and the wizard had needed to bribe his coworkers with a Fire Whiskey or two, but in the end he still managed to find himself at home with Amy.<p>

Although, he was beginning to wish he had stayed at work instead of coming home to lose game after game of Muggle Go Fish to the witch. After the first three losses, he had suggested that they do something else, like Chess or Exploding Snap or making out, but Amy had responded to each of these suggestions with a delicate shake of her head before asking for another card. Charlie could have sworn, though, that the last suggestion had indeed made the witch blush a bit. As to why though, the wizard wasn't entirely sure. He knew they had both agreed to wait a while longer until Amy was completely healed and rested before taking things too far, but he hadn't expected her to seem so awkward about it. And it wasn't as if he brought it up every moment of every day, but when he did, it wasn't difficult to notice the slight flush in her face or her almost uncomfortable shifting. He had finally stopped bringing it up, feeling as though he was pressuring her.

So instead, Charlie resigned himself to playing game after game of Go Fish, which he could honestly say he was beginning to hate. It wasn't even that he hated the game but more the fact that it was impossible to win against the witch. It probably should have been _easier _for him to win seeing as his only competitor was Amy, but she seemed to have some occult ability to read his cards from the other side, and time and time again, Charlie found himself reshuffling the deck while Amy sat by with a bright grin spread across her face.

"You're bad at this," the witch broke in. Charlie looked up at her as she straightened the neat pairs of cards on her bed. "Did you know that?"

"For your information, little Miss Awesome," Charlie protested. "I am the best when it comes to Go Fish."

"Is that why I'm about to take your eights?" she asked quietly. She bit her lip and raised an eyebrow expectantly as Charlie looked down at his hand. There was a brief moment when the wizard thought it would be his turn to make the witch draw some cards before he caught sight of a lone eight peeking its way out from behind another card. He grumbled again and swore under his breath before pulling the eight from his hand and passing it to the witch. Amy smiled brightly as she took the offered card and set it down next to the other piles she had already won.

"This isn't fair, you know," Charlie proclaimed after he lost several more cards to Amy. "You grew up in the Muggle world. You must be some Go Fish prodigy or something."

Amy laughed loudly; she shook her head and her messy curls bounced around her face. "Right, because that's what Muggles specialize in," she agreed jokingly. "Card games designed for children."

"You Muggles can be pretty weird at times," Charlie said lightly. Amy's eyes went wide and a disbelieving smile spread across her face.

"Muggles are weird?" she asked, pressing her cards against her chest. "This coming from a man who grew up in a freakin' Wizarding world? With _magic_? You having flying cars and the ability to turn people into animals, and you think Muggles are weird?"

"Yes," Charlie said. "That's exactly what I'm saying." Amy narrowed her eyes at him evilly before looking down at her cards once more.

"Just for that," the witch laughed. "I'm taking you're Queens." Charlie pouted but before he even moved the witch plowed on. "And your three and Jacks." Charlie looked down at his cards; surveying them as the woman continued on in retaliation. "Fives, twos, and tens too." Charlie gapped at the witch who settled back against the pillows with a bright smile. She looked expectantly at him before back at the cards in his hands. Amy's smile only grew as Charlie pulled the cards out, one-by-one, before passing them to the witch.

"You're obviously having so much fun," Amy commented cheerfully as Charlie slumped down moodily in his seat having finished passing the majority of his cards to the witch. "Are you having fun?" She smirked at Charlie who glared playfully at her before looking back down at her neat piles of cards.

"So much fun," Charlie retorted blandly. "I could do this forever. You, me, and this corrupt deck of cards for the rest of our lives. We could have the wedding right here in this room, I'm sure Mum would love that."

There was a pause as Charlie's words sunk in, and they both realized what the wizard said. Immediately, Charlie's cheeks flushed red, and Amy looked away from the wizard and back down at her piles of cards; fingering the heavy paper of the cards to keep herself from looking at Charlie. Amy certainly hadn't thought Charlie would bring up the topic of getting married, and to be perfectly honest, Charlie hadn't even realized what he was saying until the words had escaped him. And now, all the wizard wanted to do was amend his words.

"I mean, not that we're getting married," he broke the silence hastily. Amy paused in her fidgeting and looked up at Charlie with questioning eyes. She seemed almost taken aback by what he had said, and once again, Charlie quickly tried to fix himself. "But that doesn't mean we're not getting married." Amy raised an eyebrow and Charlie again realized he was making himself one lovely hole. "I mean, we could get married, if we wanted to. Do you want to?" He looked at Amy for a brief moment as though he wanted her to respond before he continued on. "I don't want to." He shut his eyes in desperation, and he groaned quietly. "And by that," he said slowly, trying to gather his words before spewing out nonsense, "I don't mean that I don't want to get married ever. I just mean that we shouldn't force each other into it. We're both young, so why push it?" He opened his eyes wide now, the blue irises half-hopeful and half-desperate as he looked at the witch across from him.

Amy's face was rather stoic and she was quiet for a moment before she nodded and smiled grimly. Charlie desperately wished she would say something, anything to calm his nerves, or better yet, he wished he hadn't said anything in the first place. He wanted to know what she was thinking, whether she agreed with him, whether she saw this going as far as he did. Did she see them spending the rest of their lives together? Did she see that same image of her with the swollen stomach and baby clothes? Did she see the toddlers with reddish-brown hair and blue eyes that ran around with never-ending energy and optimism?

Charlie desperately wanted her to say yes: that she saw the kids, and the swollen stomach coupled with wacky cravings, and growing old, but she didn't.

She asked for his Queens instead.

…..

"Are you sure about this?" Amy looked up from her suitcase and over to Charlie who stood in the doorframe. His arms were crossed over his chest and she could tell from his stance that he was extremely tensed – his white knuckles were testament to that. Amy sighed softly before looking back down at the bag on the bed. It was half filled with papers and clothes, the rest of which was spread out neatly on the cover of the bed, ready to be packed.

After much consideration – and begging on her part – Molly and Dumbledore had agreed that it was time for Amy to go back to work. The new semester had started almost two weeks ago, and the witch was incredibly anxious to get back. She would never admit it to any of her students, but she really did miss teaching and spending time with the many Hogwarts students.

So while Amy was thrilled to be going back to work and Molly was thrilled to see Amy so excited, Charlie was not the happiest of campers. He, of course, had been completely against her going back to work, especially so soon after the holidays, and he hadn't been subtle about his opinions either. Every day, Charlie would stand in the doorway of his room, his lips pursed tightly together and his eyes narrowed, and day after day he would ask the same question: "Are you sure about this?"

To say the least, it got old very quickly. For weeks, she had been complaining about being cooped up in the Burrow, and now that she was finally being released, Charlie was determined to make her stay. Of course, she understood where he was coming from, and she understood that they had been through so many rough patches as of late, but the only way to really finish the healing process was to get back to their normal everyday lives, even if that meant that the witch wouldn't be able to see her boyfriend for several weeks. She had done her resting but it was time to get back to her life and a big part of her life was at Hogwarts. Not to say that Charlie wasn't a big part of her life, he was a huge part of her life, but he couldn't expect her to give up her career simply because she had been attacked. If they really wanted to win, really wanted to throw their victory in the Death Eaters' faces, then she needed to show them that no matter how many times they cursed her, no matter how many cuts and bruises or nightmares she had, she would always bounce right back up. Charlie, however, didn't seem to be able to grasp this concept which was why this conversation had happened one too many times. It wasn't even funny how incredibly irritating it was.

It didn't help that the two were still a little off after their almost-marriage conversation. It wasn't as though Amy didn't _want _to talk to Charlie about it, but she had seen the way he had stuttered and stammered over himself, trying to correct whatever it was he was saying. Maybe he wasn't ready for marriage yet, and then again, maybe she wasn't either. Nevertheless, even if that conversation hadn't taken place, Amy would still be getting incredibly annoyed by Charlie's insistent coddling.

"Yes, Charlie," Amy said dully. "I'm sure. We've been over this. I'm fine and I'm ready to get back to work. I've been ready." She gave him a pointed look, hoping to get the point across but Charlie's stance didn't change. If anything, he became more rigid and he continued to speak.

"Are you sure you're ready though? No one would deny you more time, not after everything you've been through, I mean-" Charlie broke off as Amy threw a shirt down onto the bed with a tight hiss. Perhaps it was from being trapped inside the Burrow for so long or maybe it was because she hadn't been given the opportunity to truly be her sarcastic, temperamental self, but Amy felt anger slowly begin to build within her as Charlie continued to rattle on and on about why it was a bad idea for her to return to Hogwarts. The witch squeezed her eyes shut tightly and took a sharp breath. She knew he was only trying to be helpful, but this was one conversation too many, and she was fed up. She was going back to work, and nothing Charlie said would deter her from that.

"I am fine," Amy stressed through clenched teeth. She gripped the edge of her bag to try and calm herself from throwing a hex at the wizard. He was actually really starting to get on her nerves with all this coddling of his.

"Yeah, but it's only been two weeks!" Charlie protested, ignoring the tightness in the witch's shoulders. "You're still weak! You could have a relapse or something!"

Amy's eyes narrowed dangerously and she turned to face the wizard. Charlie took half a step back as he took in the witch's clenched jaw and flashing eyes. "I am not weak," she told him coolly. Charlie flinched at the harsh inflection, and the white strain in his knuckles died away. "You really think I'm weak after everything I've been through?"

Charlie blanched at the witch's accusative tone and he shook his head hurriedly, trying to amend what he had said.

"No, of course not!" he told her, taking a step closer to the witch. "You are one of the strongest people I know, and I understand that all of this had simply made you stronger, but taking some time off to rest and heal properly won't make you weak either. You may be strong, but that doesn't mean you can't get hurt. You're not invulnerable, Amy."

"Don't you think I know that?" Amy asked, laughing bitterly. "I've been living in a bed for weeks, watching as green and purple bruises slowly and painfully fade away. Clearly, I understand that I'm not invincible, and I know I'm still healing, but I can't heal completely if I'm stuck in this house day after day. It's too constricting, too repressive. Sometimes it feels like I'm back in that basement with the way you and Molly are constantly watching me, and I hate that feeling. I hate feeling so helpless and as though I'm back down there!"

The witch was breathing heavily, kind of thrilled to feel the frustrated anger course through her veins, and she threw down another piece of clothing with finality before continuing on, her voice thick but steady. Already, she could feel her anger giving way to a much deeper emotion as her memories washed over her and she thought back to her experiences in that basement with Avery.

"There's so much you don't know," Amy continued, her hands shaking at her sides. "All the pain, all the anguish I felt. I'm so incredibly damaged. Charlie, I'm scarred." Amy's voice cracked slightly as her mind raced back to the scar carved into her leg, but she forced herself to continue. "But that doesn't mean I'm weak."

Charlie's brow furrowed at the witch's shaking voice, not completely comprehending what it was that she was saying. One moment she was furious with him and the next her voice was thick with tears. He didn't know how she had switched so quickly between the two emotions but at the same time, he didn't know why she was so afraid to talk about her injuries. So what if she was scarred, and why did it sound like she was admitting something when she said that? He had seen her and all of her bruises for weeks, so why did it sound like a secret? Her scars and bruises were a testament of everything she had been through. They made her stronger, more beautiful, and it wasn't as though the fact she was scarred would make him stop loving her. In fact, this entire experience made him love her even more. It made him realize how important she was too him, how he couldn't live without her.

"Amy, I don't care if you're scarred," Charlie said quietly, voicing his thoughts to the witch. He took a slow step towards her, followed by another and then another until he was just before her. Reaching down, he pried Amy's fingers open and weaved his through hers until they were interlocked. "I love you, and that's not going to change anytime soon, scars and bruises or not. I know that I'll never be able to fully understand everything you've been through but that doesn't mean you shouldn't give me the chance. I want to be there for you every step of the way, and I can't exactly do that if you're at Hogwarts and I'm here, now can I?" The witch shook her head slowly, keeping her eyes downcast. Her hair had slipped over her shoulder to form a curtain around her so Charlie couldn't see her face, but he continued on nevertheless.

"Maybe I'm being selfish, not wanting you to leave, but I lost you once, Amy," Charlie whispered, leaning down so his mouth was just near Amy's ear. He squeezed her hands as he continued. "I'm not going to lose you again."

There was a quiet sniffle from behind Amy's curtain of hair before she freed one of her hands to wipe her nose. Peering up through strands of hair, Amy's eyes locked onto Charlie's.

"You better not," she told him with a thick, tear-laden voice. Charlie smiled faintly at the witch before he stroked her hair back and rested his hand on her cheek, running his fingertips over her soft skin.

"I won't," he promised earnestly. Amy sniffled a bit more before stepping completely into Charlie's embrace, wrapping her arms tightly around his torso. The wizard didn't hesitate a second before he too wrapped his arms around her shoulders, keeping her pressed as close to him as possible.

"I'm still going back to Hogwarts," Amy told him, her voice muffled against his sweater. Charlie bit his cheek but chuckled nonetheless, rather pleased to see Amy's persistence poking through her cracked exterior. "I know you won't be there with me every day, but that doesn't mean we will have lost each other. We'll just be separated, at least for a little bit, and before we know it, we'll be back together.

"And you can always come to visit," the witch continued. Her face was still pressed to his chest, but she didn't care. Amy could just feel his heart beating under the warm yarn of his sweater. "And maybe this time one of my students won't get cursed. We might actually be able to have a normal day together. I'm getting a tad bit weary of these dramatic, chaotic ones."

"You know you wouldn't have it any other way," he told her before leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head. Amy laughed and placed a kiss on his sweater, just over his heart.

"Neither would you," Amy countered. She pulled her head away from his chest and looked up at him, her chin resting on his chest as she peered upwards. Charlie shrugged but didn't disagree. Every day was an adventure with the witch, and he would never trade that for a normal day. Normal was overrated, and he would much rather be abnormal and have the love of his life by his side. He would, of course, much rather have Amy home with him, at least for a little while longer, but he knew in the end that he really had no hold over the witch. Sure, they were in love and they were the most important thing in each other's lives, but that didn't mean he controlled her nor did she control him. He may not always like it, but it was one thing that he really loved about her: she wasn't one to give up easily, and the past few weeks were testament to that. Then again, neither was Charlie and he couldn't help but ask one more time…

"So, I really can't convince you to stay? Even for a day or so?" Amy smiled a bit at his hopeful voice and settled deeply into his arms.

"If I stay, I'll never leave," Amy told him.

"Is that such a bad thing?" Charlie murmured, his lips pressed close to Amy's ear. Amy shivered a bit as his warm breath tickled the soft skin of her neck and she pressed her face into his neck.

"It would be for my students," she reminded him gently, and Charlie made a disappointed noise. The witch was sure he was pouting but she didn't pull away to see if this was true. "I mean, I honestly doubt that their substitute is anywhere near as good as me."

"Love," Charlie started, "no one could ever be as good as you."

…..

It was late at night when Amy finally found herself in front of the fireplace of the Burrow. She was distinctly reminded of the previous year when she had left Charlie after Christmas break. The couple had stood together in front of the fireplace then too. The only difference this time was that Molly and Arthur stood with the couple as well. Amy, of course, was anxious to leave. She wanted to get back to Hogwarts and settle in as quickly as possible. She had classes in the morning and it wouldn't benefit anyone for her to be exhausted after her extended holiday. Molly, however, seemed very insistent on checking to ensure that Amy had everything she needed – as well as things that she didn't need too. Yet, Amy stood dutifully by as Molly flocked around her, adjusting the scarf around the witch's neck, stuffing papers and loose socks as deep into the pockets of her bag as possible, and the teacher waited patiently for Molly's mothering to cease, even for a minute or so, during which she could flee back to Hogwarts.

As she waited for this moment, Charlie anxiously tapped his foot, glancing between the witch and the burning fire. Though the two had already argued over her returning to work and had already come to an agreement, the wizard was still nervous about Amy going back to the school. He knew that Hogwarts was undoubtedly safe, but he didn't like the idea of the witch being so far from him. Perhaps it was oppressive of him to think so, but it was just outside the grounds of the school that the witch had been kidnapped in the first place. Perhaps it wasn't so crazy of him to think she should wait a bit longer. But, the couple had agreed that it was useless for her to remain at the Burrow any longer. She had healed as much as she could in the Weasley household and she was no help to anyone wrapped up in that bed. He may not like it, but he wasn't going to stop her from doing what made her happy.

"Are you sure you have everything?" Molly asked for the umpteenth time. "Your clothes, and papers, and all of your books? Oh! I think I saw one of those Charms books of yours floating around here-"

"Mum," Charlie broke in hurriedly, not wanting his mother to go off on _another _aimless search for something Amy was not in fact missing. "It's getting late. We don't want Amy to be tired for her first class tomorrow, do we?" He raised an eyebrow expectantly to which Molly bit her lip. She shook her head and looked mistily between her son and Amy before stepping forward and pulling the younger witch into a tight embrace. Amy let out a small gasp as the mother's arms effectively cut her air supply off. Molly sniffed a bit and Amy spared a glance at Charlie who was smirking at them. With a half-glare at the wizard, Amy awkwardly unwound a hand and patted Molly on the shoulder.

"There, there?" Amy said, not really knowing what to say. Molly sniffled again before pulling away. She placed her hands on either side of Amy's face and looked the witch determinedly in the eye.

"You take care of yourself now," Molly ordered. "I don't want to hear from anyone that you've gone off and hurt yourself doing something stupid and irrational." Amy cocked her head a bit and made to argue but stopped when Charlie nudged her in the side. She shut her mouth and nodded quickly, realizing that any protest she made would merely keep her here longer.

"Of course," Amy agreed with a small smile. "Nothing stupid or irrational from me." Molly smiled brightly, obviously not detecting the underlying snarky-ness of her comment. The mother surveyed Amy's face for a moment more before she leaned in a bit, gesturing for Amy to do so too.

"Think about what we talked about, yes?" Molly whispered quietly, her eyes bright. Amy's eyebrows furrowed a bit in confusion until the older witch looked pointedly at Charlie, and the professor was immediately reminded of the conversation she had with Molly about Charlie and marriage. A low flush rose up on Amy's face, and she nodded hurriedly, embracing Molly once more before pulling away. She shared a much briefer hug with Arthur before moving to stand next to Charlie in front of the fireplace.

The couple had already said their good byes, for they had expected that they would not be alone upon Amy's departure. So with a brief hug and an even briefer kiss, Amy stepped into the fire place, Floo Powder falling from her hand as green flames licked their way up her legs.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Hope ya'll enjoyed. Also, let's all take a good...oh... eleven months, and cry over Mark of Athena. I mean... REALLY? REALLY? Oh lordy... I finally finished it, and I immediately went over to my friend's, knocked on her door, and basically exploded. Everywhere. They're still sweeping my guts up. Damn you Rick Riordan...

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	59. Chapter 58

**AN:** Sorry for the delay! The holidays kind of snuck up on me and the last couple of weeks have just been jam-packed with schoolwork and birthdays and parties and whatnot. Anyway, here's the next chapter... Bit of a filler, but I'm already working on the next chapter! Get excited and happy holidays!

**Dedication:** Happy belated birthday to my mom, Caroline, Michelle, Yiota, and Mia!

**Disclaimer:** I did not received Harry Potter for Christmas, thus I don't own Harry Potter.

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><p>With the crack of sunlight through their windows, students blearily pulled themselves from the warm confines of their bed. They sat there for a moment, blinking as sun streamed into the rooms before blindly shuffling towards their clothes and bathroom to get ready for the day. It was a regular day, just like the one before, and just like the next one, and there was absolutely nothing for them to be excited for. It was just another day full of classes with teachers and peers that they really couldn't stand, all the while wishing that they were back in bed.<p>

It was with that mindset that the students of Hogwarts set out on their day, some rubbing sleep from their eyes, some doing last minute assignments. They were expecting a normal day, with the teachers they all had seen the day before, which is why each and every student that walked into the Charms classroom that day stopped short upon seeing Professor Wyman seated at her desk. They would stand there for a moment, watching the witch as she scribbled notes on papers and brushed her hair behind her ear in irritation, and after a moment or so, the students would wander off to their desks in confusion. Once seated, they twisted around in their seats to whisper to their peers, demanding to know when exactly their professor had returned.

Since returning from their winter break, the Charms classes at Hogwarts had been taught by a substitute teacher. They had been told by the administration that Professor Wyman had to return to the states for an extended break due to health issues in her family. It was rather odd for her to be gone for so long, but few of the students took notice as their other teachers began to pile the work on. Yet, it was still shocking to see the young teacher back in her seat after weeks of dealing with an old, haggard substitute. Nice, but still shocking.

Hermione Granger was the first to get over her shock of seeing the professor back, and she was the first to say something to the teacher as well.

"Professor Wyman!" Hermione proclaimed, dropping her books onto her desk with a thud. "You're back!" Amy looked up at the cry, and a bright smile broke out on her face. She had, of course, heard the students come into her class, but she also knew that she couldn't get distracted or she wouldn't get anything done.

"It would appear so!" Amy agreed cheerful. She set down her quill and clasped her hands on top of the desk. The witch looked across the room at the students who were already there, and she felt her smile grow even larger. She was like a kid on the first day of school; she was so excited to be back and she couldn't wait to see all of her students again. "Did you miss me?"

There was a loud chorus of 'yes!' from each student, and they nodded earnestly at the teacher. Amy laughed a bit, at their eager faces. Another strand of hair fell into her face, and she brushed it away once more, not even caring because she was just so glad to be back.

"Well good," Amy said brightly. She stood as the bell rang and the last students milled into the room. She leaned over her desk and smiled at the students. "Because I missed you too."

…..

To say that Amy was thrilled to be back at Hogwarts was an understatement. As word spread of her arrival throughout the school, Amy found herself being hunted down by her students during the passing periods and breaks. For the most part, the students were thrilled to have her back and couldn't wait to have her positive attitude back in the classroom – it didn't hurt that Amy actually knew what she was doing in the classroom, unlike their substitute.

So throughout the day, Amy was greeted and shouted at by her students, and even knowing that her return meant staying up late to finish grading and dealing with teenage hormones, not to mention being away from Charlie, Amy was still thrilled to be back at Hogwarts. Back to the freedom of the grounds and back to doing the thing she loved.

If there was one thing she did not love, however, it was being forced to attend the Apparation lessons at night when she could be grading papers or sleeping. It was on Saturdays too! It would've been okay if she was actually _doing_ something, but she wasn't. She spent the entire evening hidden away in a corner of the Great Hall watching as student after student spun around in ridiculous circles. Amy understood that this was the only way for them to learn, but did she really have to give up her evening to watch them be taught by another teacher?

The only thing she even did on the first night was shush noisy students and help the other teachers heal a young Hufflepuff that Splinched herself. The other students had watched in horror as the professors set to work on reattaching the girl's leg, but Amy had certainly seen worse, especially in the last few weeks, and especially in her nightmares.

The witch had been right that sleeping alone at night would only strengthen the dreams, and nothing she did seemed to help with them either. She was sure she was starting to get shadows and bags under her eyes due to the lack of sleep, and she wouldn't be surprised if her students had noticed it too. Amy hoped that they would think it was because of stress over her work or family, but Amy also knew that there was a small group of students who knew that she hadn't been gone because of her family but because she had been kidnapped. It was almost impossible to miss the looks of concern she was receiving from Ron, Ginny, and Harry, not to mention Hermione's look. Even though the younger witch hadn't been at the Burrow for the past holidays, it didn't surprise Amy that she knew about the events that had transpired anyway. Even with her and Ron arguing, Hermione still found a way to know everything that was going on.

There were several nights, of course, that the nightmares refused to subside and Amy found herself sitting up the entire night, swaddled in blankets and burrowed in her pillows. She couldn't even use this time for work because the nightmares made her so paranoid that she was unable to focus because she jumped at every creak. It was maddening, and even the breaking light through her window as the sun rose did little to calm the witch's frayed nerves. She had thought about going to Madam Pomfrey or Slughorn and requesting a dreamless sleep potion, but Amy knew that word would somehow get out, and the last thing she wanted was for the entire school to know she was having nightmares. She was a teacher. She was supposed to be strong, invincible. It would do her no good to appear weak and after all she had been through, the witch refused to let any more weakness shine through the cracks in her armor.

So, Amy tried to carry on each day as though nothing was wrong. She dismissed every thought that popped into her head that was unrelated to schoolwork and detentions. She hoped that her ignorance would bring her bliss, but if anything, the dreams only got worse and Amy found her eyes growing darker and darker with each passing night.

…..

Almost a month after her return to Hogwarts, March arrived on a rainy weekend. There had been a Hogsmeade trip planned for that day, but the administration had decided it would be best to cancel the trip, despite the complaints they received from the student body. Amy, however, was glad for the cancelation because it gave her the opportunity to sleep in. Even with the dreams harassing her throughout the night, Amy still craved sleep, and she took every chance she could to sleep in, no matter how fitful it was.

The witch loved sleep, and she loved sleeping in, but one thing she didn't like was being awoken by pounding on her door and shouts in the hall. It wasn't the first time it had happened, and for some reason, the witch doubted it would be the last.

Amy shot up from her twisted and skewed blankets, blinking blearily as she was thrust into consciousness. The pounding on her door was thunderous and seemed to echo around her room, creating a cacophony of sound. Amy wobbled to her feet, grabbing her glasses from her desk and she shuffled as quickly to the door as she could. She didn't care that she was still in her pajamas and she didn't care that she probably looked a mess. At the moment, all Amy cared about was shutting whoever it was up and crawling back into bed.

Alas, the second she opened the door, someone grabbed Amy by her shoulders and pulled her into the hall. It took her a moment to gather her senses, but when she finally did, Amy found herself looking blearily down at Professor Slughorn who was speaking very quickly and motioning for her to follow him. Amy's mind was still having trouble keeping up with her ears, and it took her a few moments longer to comprehend what it was the Potion's master was saying.

"- collapsed… Harry and Ralph! A bezoar and – "

"Horace! Horace!" Amy cried loudly. The witch held up her hands to silence the wizard who immediately fell quiet though he continued to shuffle anxiously, and his mustache seemed to twitch with nerves. "Slow down! What's happened?"

The wizard took a deep breath and looked Amy in the eye.

"A student's been poisoned!" he said breathily.

Amy felt her heart skip a beat as his words sunk into her brain. She took a step back and blinked rapidly as she finally comprehended what it was the wizard had been trying to tell her, and the instant she had, Amy turned around, grabbed her robe from the chair just inside the doorway. The witch shut the door to her room with a snap before turning and taking off down the hall. Slughorn followed after her, huffing and puffing, as she raced towards his office. The halls were mostly empty this early in the morning, and those that were in the halls, quickly moved out of the way as Amy sped passed them. All thoughts of going back to sleep were gone, and she was finally beginning to piece together the puzzle. A student had been poisoned, though Amy wasn't entirely sure how, and from what Slughorn had said, the only student Amy could think of was Harry, and if it wasn't Harry then there was really only one other student it could be. One who, even before meeting him, Amy had been warned was a magnet for trouble and dogged almost each and every one of Harry's steps…

The witch turned the final corner of the hall, Slughorn's private room coming into sight. Amy could still hear the wizard wheezing behind her, but she gave no notice as she charged towards the door. She thrust her hands out and pushed the heavy door open. She stopped in the doorway, her eyes moving from one thing to another; an opened chest with different bottles, knocked over glasses, and chair that had been pushed out of the way, before something caught her gaze and she felt her gut clench tightly at the sight before her.

The witch swallowed hard and gripped the doorframe tightly to keep her balance. Her eyes went wide as she took everything, her heart pounding beneath her chest and her mind racing.

Harry was hovering over the prone figure of his best friend, Ron, who was lying unconscious on the plush carpeting of the room. Harry looked up quickly as Amy burst into the room, Slughorn following after her. The teen had a frazzled look across his face, and it appeared as though there were stray tears in his eyes, though upon catching sight of the witch, still in her pajamas with nothing more than a flimsy robe covering her, Harry's eyes filled with evident relief.

"Professor Wyman," he breathed. "Please, you have to help!" Amy swallowed before moving quickly around the furniture and falling to her knees beside the unconscious student. She could feel Harry's stare on her as he tried to explain what had happened. Amy pulled her wand from the sleeve of her robe, and she heard Horace mutter something from the doorway, but she paid neither Harry nor Horace any attention. Instead, Amy waved her wand over Ron several times, her forehead furrowed in concentration as she put whatever limited energy she had into the spell she was casting. She wasn't a Healer and she didn't know the darndest thing about Healing spells for critical patients, but she did know that she couldn't simply sit here and wait for Pomfrey. There may not be much she could do, because she had no idea what had happened to Ron, but she could at least ensure that he would feel no pain, and she could do her best to remove the toxins from his body. She wouldn't be able to remove all of them - they would need Madam Pomfrey to do that – but she could at least do her best to make Ron as comfortable as possible until Pomfrey got there.

After several minutes of waving her wand back and forth over the unconscious teen, Ron heaved a quiet sigh and Amy paused in her movements. Both she and Harry watched as Ron fidgeted slightly, a cold sheen of sweat blossoming over his skin and he shivered in the drafty room before falling still. Amy sat back on her heels and watched the teen for any signs that he may be waking up, but there was none.

Amy looked up at Harry now, her eyes searching his face for any answers, but she found none. Harry was simply staring at Ron, his face split between shock and fear as he began to comprehend everything that had just happened and everything that _could _have happened.

"Harry," Amy said softly, pulling him from his stupor. "Harry, I need you to tell me what happened. Can you do that? Can you tell me what happened? It could be important." The teen was silent for a moment more as he looked down at Ron before up at his professor. The boy's bright green eyes were filled with fear and shock. He still couldn't believe what had just happened; it didn't make any sense to him and quite frankly it didn't make any sense to Amy either. Who on earth would want to poison Ron Weasley? Sure, he could be a bit of a git sometimes but he was a teenage boy! All boys at his age were stupid and insensitive. It was a way of life, not a reason to kill someone.

"He ate a, uh, batch of Chocolate Cauldrons that were laced with love potion," Harry started quietly. "They must have been really strong because he was going on and on about some girl in our house. Anyway, I took him to Professor Slughorn because I couldn't let him wander the castle like that and I was hoping Slughorn would be able to come up with a quick remedy, which he did, but afterwards, Slughorn went to make a toast or something, and Ron collapsed."

"A toast?" Amy asked. Her eyebrows furrowed together a bit. "Why was he making a toast?"

Harry smiled softly. "It's Ron's birthday. Ron thought the Chocolate Cauldrons were a birthday gift, but they had actually been given to me awhile back. Slughorn gave us all something to drink and it was during his toast that I noticed Ron had already finished his drink, and then he was on the ground, twitching and shuddering uncontrollably." Harry shivered unconsciously, as though he was visualizing his best friend having spasms on the carpet.

Amy looked away from Harry now and back at Ron. He was still unconscious and the only thing truly keeping her calm was that she could see his chest rise and fall with his deep breaths. Slowly, the witch leaned forward and gently brushed a few stray hairs off of Ron's forehead. She rested the palm of her hand on his cool face with her lips pursed together. He was much paler than usual, which was saying a lot actually, and the skin around his eyes was swollen and red. For a moment, Amy almost thought it was Charlie laying here and not Ron, and she felt her heart squeeze together so tightly she thought it would crack.

The witch was pulled from these thoughts as Slughorn came bursting back into the room, followed now by McGonagall and Pomfrey. The older witches stared wide eyed at the room and its inhabitants, before swooping down on Ron and Harry. Amy stood up to make room as McGonagall pulled out her wand, conjuring a stretcher from thin air. Pomfrey took Amy's spot next the Ron, and she began to cast healing spells of her own. Harry watched worriedly as the professors said nothing to him; instead they focused all of their attention onto Ron, peering at the teen with worried looks. They were muttering under their breaths to each other, and Amy could see that their murmuring was not helping Harry at all. He had just seen his best friend shake and writhe on the floor, most likely because he was _poisoned_, and now all he could do was sit back and hope everything was alright. There was nothing he could do, literally _nothing_, and that feeling of helplessness must have been driving the boy crazy. Harry had spent his entire life doing something, anything to help those around him, and now he was being forced to sit there and do nothing. Amy knew she would've been driven crazy by now but Harry merely stood there, watching the scene unfold quietly.

Carefully, Amy made her way around McGonagall and Pomfrey so that she was standing next to the teen. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder, and the boy looked at her. She realized with a jolt that he was in fact taller than her, although she was sure that at the start of the year he had been shorter. Nevertheless, Amy squeezed his shoulders and smiled softly at him.

"What a way to spend a birthday," she said quietly. Harry looked at his professor again before back at Ron, who had now been moved onto a stretcher. The student and professor watched as Pomfrey raised her wand, and the stretcher and student rose off the ground. Quickly, the Healer led Ron out of the room, leaving Harry, Amy, Slughorn, and McGonagall alone.

In a flash, McGonagall had turned and was facing Harry fiercely, though Amy could see the anxiety in her eyes.

"Well Potter," McGonagall said after a moment of silence. "Explain yourself!"

Harry looked at Amy once more, before taking a deep breath and turning to his head of house, his story already spilling from his lips.

…..

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Happy Holidays!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	60. Chapter 59

**AN:** Ha... well... this certainly is awkward... I guess I better start from the beginning, yes? So... HAPPY NEW YEAR'S! I hope you all had a wonderful New Year's and that the new year has been good to you so far, it certainly has been for me! Life's been crazy to say the least, mostly because of APUSH and history fair, and finals! Gah... finals this week... I swear I'm going to be crying myself to sleep for the entire week. I hope you guys are coping better than I am! There is, of course, one thing that has been helping me, and that would be... (drum roll, please!)... THE LIZZIE BENNET DIARIES. Oh. My. Rowling. Can I just say... wow! Haha, I swear I'm obsessed. I've always loved _Pride and Prejudice_, and I've always loved the movie as well (the Matthew Macfayden if any of you were wondering), but the LBD takes it to a whole new level! Talk about hyper-mediation! (It doesn't hurt that Darcy's cute). But anyway... on with the story?

**Dedication: **Happy Birthday Grammy!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

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><p>"But Professor! It's a Saturday! You can't give us detention on a Saturday!"<p>

Amy rolled her eyes from behind the desk and leaned back in her seat. Before her stood two second year Ravenclaws who had been caught trying to release a case full of Weasley Wizard Wheezes fireworks in Filch's office. The caretaker had been the one to stumble upon them, cat in tow, and his cries of anger could be heard throughout the castle. Of course, it was Amy who had to face Filch's wrath as the second years were her students, which also meant that she had to endure his demands that the students be hung up by their toes and left in the dungeon. Though tempting, Amy had decided a night of detention would be better suited for their crime and much more humane.

"And yet, I'm still going to have to give you one," Amy told them. She smiled wanly at them. "I've got to protect my reputation somehow, so I want you in here Wednesday night at seven o'clock."

"Professor! I've got a Gobstones meeting that night!" One of the twelve year olds looked up at Amy woefully, his eyes wide in an attempt to plead for his exemption. Amy, however, wasn't deterred, and she shrugged.

"You should have thought of that before you decided to mess with Filch," Amy reminded him. The boy grumbled under his breath and shoved his hands into the pocket of his jeans. Amy surveyed the two for a moment longer before gesturing towards the door. "Go on now. Enjoy the rest of the weekend." The two boys shuffled towards the door, their heads down and their shoulders slumped. "And don't forget the essay that's due on Locomotion!"

The two boys mumbled under their breath in understanding as they slipped out of the door to her office. Amy sighed and shook her head. She didn't understand why students took so much joy out of messing with Filch, but she really wished they'd stop. It was bad enough that she had to grade piles of papers every night. She didn't want to have to deal with naughty children too. The witch sighed again and turned her attention back to the work at hand, though she had difficulty focusing. She had actually had difficulty focusing the entire night. After the morning's incident with Ron, Amy had found herself having to deal with numerous questions from Pomfrey, Dumbledore, and McGonagall on exactly what had happened; not to mention having to deal with all the questions Molly and Arthur had asked. By the time Amy had been released, the rest of the castle was up and about and Amy could already feel her weekend dwindling away.

Rubbing her forehead wearily, the witch leaned back in her seat. She had hoped that she would be able to relax this weekend. She had purposefully made sure to give a limited amount of homework so that she would be able to take a break over the weekend. March always seemed to give her the blues, and she had thought a little break from the stress and paperwork was due. And then, Ron Weasley went and got himself poisoned, and Amy's weekend of relaxation went down the drain. It was bad enough that he had been poisoned in the first place, but in addition, it was Amy who had to deal with Molly and Arthur. They were nice people, there was no denying that, but a worry-sick Molly was probably the worst thing on the face of the planet.

A sturdy knock resounded from her office door, and Amy looked up with a groan. She hadn't even opened the door yet and already she was not looking forward to whoever was there. With her luck, it would be another set of Ravenclaw students who had done something uncharacteristically stupid, or worse, it would be Molly, demanding to talk to her about Ron, which would inevitably lead to a conversation on her and Charlie's relationship. Nevertheless, the witch got up wearily from her seat and trudged across the room to the door. She took a moment to run her fingers through her hair, attempting to pull out as many knots as she could, before opening the door.

It took her a moment before she realized that she was not looking at the guilty face of a young Ravenclaw or into the face of Molly Weasley. Instead, Amy found herself face to face with a muscled chest. The witch blinked and took a step back in surprise; her forehead furrowed together. Amy looked up, one inch at a time, until her eyes met clear blue irises.

"Charlie!" Amy gasped. "What are you doing here?" The witch's mind was so boggled from lack of sleep that she simply couldn't fathom a single reason that Charlie would be on her doorstep. The only thing she could understand was that her tall, muscled boyfriend was standing in her doorway with his hair a muss and his eyes bright. Amy felt her heart skip a few beats as she took in this lovely sight. It, of course, hadn't been that long since she had seen him, but it had been long enough that the mere sight of him made the witch so incredibly happy that she almost couldn't stand it.

Charlie, in response to her question, smiled softy and cocked his head. "Am I not allowed to visit my witch when my brother's in the hospital wing on his birthday?" His tone was light yet Amy could still hear a strain behind it as he said these words. Of course that was why he was here. Ron was in the infirmary and in his birthday no less. Charlie must have come into town with the twins to celebrate with their brother and now...

"How is he?" Amy asked. She leaned against the doorframe and wrapped her arms around herself; the castle draft was slowly sinking into her room.

Charlie shrugged in response to the witch's question. "Oh he's fine, just being typical Ron. Breaking hearts and taking names."

Amy's forehead crinkled. "Ron?" She asked. "Breaking _hearts_?" If someone had said that to Amy when she first came to Hogwarts, she would have thought they were crazy. Sweet, naïve, ginger Ron? Breaking hearts? But the more Amy thought about it, the more she began to realize that Ron Weasley wasn't the same boy he had been in his fourth year. He had gotten taller – _much_ taller – and he had certainly started to mature a bit, but he was still very much Ron; abrasive, insensitive, sardonic Ron. He was different from Charlie in that way. He was obviously a very passionate person, anyone could see that, but he didn't quite know how to channel those passionate feelings just yet, and when he did try, well, he usually ended up hurting someone in the process. Of course, Charlie too could act impulsively, especially when it came to those that he truly cared for, but he was also willing to accept the consequences and live up to his end of the deal. This was obviously not something Ron had quite perfected – especially in the past few months with everything that had happened between Ron, Hermione, and Lavender. Amy was pulled from these thoughts as Charlie nodded seriously at her.

"Oh yeah," he said with complete earnest. "You may not have noticed but Ron's got a whole gaggle of girls after him. It must be those Weasley genes." Charlie waggled his eyebrows flirtatiously and winked but Amy took no notice.

"That brother of yours needs to straighten himself up," Amy told Charlie, though it was almost as if she was talking to herself. She was still trying to piece the last few hours together, still trying to figure out why on earth someone would poison the youngest Weasley son. "I don't know what he's doing with Lavender Brown - and quite frankly I don't want to know- but he's been a complete jerk to Hermione, who you may or may not have noticed, is completely in love with him. Not to mention that he's completely in love with her as well, so I don't under-"

Charlie cut the witch off with a sudden kiss. He could practically fell her words die on her lips as he pressed himself closer to her. Throughout Amy's entire spiel, the wizard had been inching closer and closer to the witch, though she had taken no notice. Sure, his brother was laying in the infirmary a couple halls down, and yes he had been poisoned, but Amy was right in front of him, just inches away. She was tangible, she was real, she was _his, _and the wizard simply couldn't help himself; the crinkle in her forehead, the curls that sprung every which way, the red in her cheeks, and that absolutely adorable way that he loved her, it was all simply too much for him. He had to have her and he had to have her right then.

He pulled away after a moment, though his arms remained around her waist. "Can we stop talking about Ron's love life?" he breathed against her lips. "I'd much prefer to talk about ours." The witch felt her knees go weak at the incredibly intense look that Charlie was giving her. His eyes were dark and filled with longing as he stared down at her, and Amy could only nod her head in response to his question as she was still in shock from Charlie's arrival and that kiss… Oh Merlin that _kiss! _That was a world-class kiss, and it made Amy's stomach flutter at the thought that Charlie's kisses were completely hers and hers alone.

Amy raised her hand to cup Charlie's face, her fingers gently tracing the curve of his jaw and the sharp feel of stubble beneath the pads of her fingers. "You're one hell of a kisser," Amy said softy, her sweet breath mixing with Charlie's as she spoke. "Did you know that?"

"May have heard it once or twice," Charlie mused before leaning down to capture the witch's lips once more. Slowly but surely, Charlie managed to push Amy back into her office. The door shut behind the couple with a snap and Charlie hands wound themselves into Amy's mess of hair as their lips melded together.

Amy knew how inappropriate this was; she knew that at any moment a student or colleague of hers could come knocking on the door and find her mussed and entangled in the arms of one Charlie Weasley. But the witch also knew that she had not seen the wizard in weeks and she knew that the feel of his lips on hers was so entirely right that it could never be wrong. So instead, Amy pushed herself even closer to the wizard and held onto him even tighter.

Charlie, who seemed to be having the same thoughts as the Witch, pulled away so that he come gaze down at the witch.

"We probably shouldn't be doing this here, should we?" He gasped. "Never know who could walk in."

"Who cares?" She asked. She could feel her lips swelling and his warm breath against her face. Amy gripped Charlie's shirt, her fingernails leaving little crescents in the fabric. She could feel her heart pounding beneath her skin and the warmth of her blood running through her as a passionate flush spread across her body.

"Usually you do," Charlie informed her, blinking owlishly at her. Amy ran her hands up from Charlie's chest to his neck and gripped the hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling him down so that his lips met hers passionately once more. The wizard groaned immediately and his hands cupped her face, the pads of his fingers running gently over her soft skin. Amy kept one hand entangled in Charlie's hair while she pressed the other against the muscled ridges of Charlie's torso, leaning eagerly into his touch. Merlin, she had missed this; the feel of him pressed against her, the rapid beating of his heart beneath her hand, the astounding amount of love that was pouring out of her and into this kiss. Slowly, but surely, Charlie moved Amy further back into her office, stopping only when she stumbled as her knees hit the front of her desk. Amy grabbed Charlie's shirt to steady herself, effectively drawing him even closer to her, and the witch smiled against his lips as he chuckled deep in his throat.

In a moment, Charlie gripped Amy's hips and lifted her onto the front of her desk before moving to stand between her legs, the skirt of her dress riding up her thighs. Amy wrapped an arm around Charlie's neck, forcing his lips to remain pressed against hers while her other hand fell to the hem of his shirt, pulling on it in irritation.

Charlie's hands were moving steadily up her legs, and as he did so, his fingers began to move the hem of her skirt even higher while he continued to kiss and suckle on the sensitive skin of her neck. Amy gasped at the feel of his fingers on the top of her thigh and she immediately put her hand on his shoulders, trying to push him back. His fingers were just on the edge of her scar; an inch more and he would be certain to feel the raised, torn skin.

"Wait, Charlie-" Amy broke off with a groan as the wizard bit down on the spot where her neck met her shoulder, and she could feel him smirk against the agitated skin. He pulled away with a triumphant smile, pleased to have succeeded in distracting the witch. His fingers continued to inch their way up her thigh, and Charlie pressed his lips to Amy's once more. For a moment, the witch forgot her worries, forgot about the scar on her leg, and forgot about all the crap that was going on; all that mattered was the feel of Charlie's lips on hers. That is, of course, until she felt Charlie's fingers brush over the raised scar on her leg and the couple froze, Amy in self-consciousness and Charlie in confusion.

The wizard pulled away from Amy, his eyebrows furrowed together as he looked at the witch before down at her legs. Amy bit her lip as he did so, knowing that it would be impossible to hide the scar now. Charlie moved his fingers a bit, just so he could run his fingers over the raised skin again before he gently pushed the hem of her skirt up further, still covering her, but far enough up that he was clearly able to see the words carved into her skin. It took him a moment to figure out, his eyes scanning the word a few times, noting how the letters shone against her skin, white and pale and so cruelly formed.

Amy shivered and felt her muscles tighten as Charlie traced the scar with the pad of his finger. The witch could feel the strain behind the wizard's touch as she saw the muscles in his shoulders tighten as he read the words over and over again.

After several moments of terrible silence, Charlie looked up at the witch; his eyes glazed and his face an ashen white. Amy bit her tongue to withhold the mountain of tears that was building up inside of her. She felt her heart clench tightly at the look of utter despair and pain behind Charlie's eyes as he gazed up at her tearfully.

"Amy," he began softly, his voice just above a whisper, "Amy, what is this?"

Amy's eyes welled up with tears of her own at the heart-wrenching tone of Charlie's voice.

"It's-It's a scar," Amy whispered after a tense moment. Her words were choked and tight as they escaped from her throat with a small gasp. Her words were followed by another moment of terrible silence, broken only by Charlie as he cleared his throat.

"How did you get it?" Charlie's voice was soft and he spoke slowly as though he didn't really want to know the answer to his question, and perhaps he didn't. Maybe the wizard could tell just by looking at the words carved into her skin that this wasn't a pleasant story, that the tale behind the words was long and painful and still gave the witch nightmares.

Amy shivered suddenly as Charlie gently ran the tip of his finger over the raised skin, and she flinched away from him. Immediately, Amy felt guilt rise up inside of her as hurt bloomed over Charlie's face. He pulled his hands away from her immediately and stepped back, leaving the witch on top of her desk with wild hair and wrinkled clothes. She could still feel her pulse beating rapidly, the pounding loud in her ears. She swallowed as she stared hopelessly at the wizard before her, desperate for him to look at her, but he could only stare at the words carved into her flesh.

The witch flushed under Charlie's stare and she rushed to pull her skirt down so that it covered her thighs. Her pale skin disappeared under the floral pattern of her skirt, but Charlie grabbed her hand suddenly, stopping her from covering the word completely. Amy looked up hesitantly, her eyes wide and her cheeks red. Charlie's eyes still remained on Amy's legs, his bright eyes flashing back and forth over the insult.

"Tell me," he said softly, his voice barely spoken above a whisper. Amy furrowed her forehead and eyed the hem of her skirt which did not completely conceal her scars.

"Tell you what?" she murmured, hesitant and scared. Charlie looked up at her sharply and the witch shrunk away from him, her shoulders hunching over with self-consciousness and shame. Immediately, the wizard's eyes softened at the fear written obviously across her face.

"Amy," he whispered, his voice cracking from the emotion building up within him. There was a moment of silence, and though the witch could hear the desperate urging in his voice accompanied with gentle encouragement, Amy felt her throat close tightly as more tears welled up inside of her. Even though he had tried to mask his feelings, not wanting to scare or upset her even more, Amy could hear the pained inflection of his words, and she hated herself for that, hated that she had caused that pain, no matter how inadvertent it was.

This was not what she wanted. She had never wanted him to learn about it like this; she hadn't wanted him to know in the first place. She thought she may have been able to charm it, to cover it, but not for her own vanity, never for that. No, she could deal with a scar or two – Merlin knows she had her fair share of torn up knees that never healed properly. No, she wouldn't have concealed it for herself, but for Charlie – everything she did was for Charlie, after all. She wanted to protect him, and she knew if Charlie truly loved her as she did him that this would hurt him just as much as it was hurting her, if not more. The meaning behind this word would hurt Charlie more than it would hurt her. She had heard the word before, she knew what it meant; it wasn't unfamiliar to her, and it wasn't the first time it had been used describe her, but it had a new meaning this time. Before the term had never really struck her, it had never offended her, and it had never resonated within her, but after Avery, the word had taken on a whole new meaning besides being a derogatory word; it was her weakness, her flaw, the thing that made her unworthy, at least in her eyes, of the man before her.

Amy jumped as Charlie reached out to her, hesitant and shaking, so as to cup her jaw in his calloused fingers, and she drew her eyes to meet his tentatively. His blue eyes that were usually bright with humor and passion were now dark with pain and sincerity. The pad of his thumb brushed over her face, catching a tear that had managed to slip passed her reserve. She leaned into his touch for a moment and gripped his arm, holding onto it as she tried to gather her thoughts. The muscles beneath her hand were tense, but she took strength from them; she took strength from _him._

"It's from the break," she whispered tightly. "From when I was in the basement." She swallowed, trying to pusher tears back into the pit of her stomach. "It was few days before you came to the house. I was alone with A-Avery-" she stumbled over her words, the vicious image of the Death Eater blooming in her mind, "- and he was torturing me."

Charlie made a noise, deep within his throat, and the witch felt his muscles tighten even more beneath her fingers. The pain in his eyes turned to an angry fire and Amy forced herself to look away from him. She shut her eyes as she tried to collect her thoughts but instead found herself being pulled back into her memories. The chill of the castle caused her to shiver, and it was almost as if she was back in that cellar, soaked in sweat and covered in dirt, her body aching that the slightest breath caused her to feel immeasurable pain. Amy kept her eyes shut as she continued on, her heavy breathing loud in the relative silence of the room.

"He had me against the floor and was torturing me," Amy spoke softly, her fingers twisting back and forth in her hands. She remembered the crazed glint in his eyes as he surveyed her broken form, the feel of his cracked nails piercing her skin, and the sharp words that cut her to the bone. "Out of all of them, he was the one that truly wanted to hurt me; he was the one who wanted to make me suffer the most. He was the one who terrified me.

"He was the one that did, well…" Amy trailed off, looking down at her skirt and running her fingers over the fabric that covered the scarring. "_This._" She fell silent as she stared down at her skirt, awkwardly avoiding Charlie's gaze. She couldn't bring herself to look at him, to see the pain and what was sure to be obvious disgust and disdain for her blatant weakness. He was a Gryffindor; he didn't do weakness. She swallowed and tried to steady her voice, trying to put some semblance of strength back into it.

"He took out a knife and told me he needed to give me my 'brand,'" she explained, still refusing to look the wizard in the eye. "He thought everyone should know what I am: a Mudblood."

There was a hiss of anger, and before she knew it, Amy found herself being pulled up from the desk, Charlie's hands tight on her arms, as he forced her to stand. The witch stumbled a bit before looking up at Charlie, her eyes wide. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest again, the pounding filling her ears. Every inhalation of breath caught in her throat, and her breathing became rapid. The wizard's eyes were filled with unspoken words of anger, yet behind the fury Amy could see the pain that he was trying to hide from her, a pain that her words had caused. Charlie's gaze roamed over her face, taking in every detail, every unshed tear, every freckle and misplaced strand of hair, before he placed a hand on the nape of the witch's neck, her hair soft beneath his fingers, and pulling her against him so that her face rested in the curve of his throat. Amy was startled at this and placed her hands on his upper arms to push him away, but Charlie held tight.

She didn't want this; she didn't want his sympathy. She didn't want him to see her as weak. She was his companion, his lover, she was supposed be strong; if not for herself than for him. She shook a little as her pent up emotion rattled her soul, and she allowed herself to be pulled deeper into Charlie's arms.

"Amy," Charlie spoke softly, his voice a whisper in the quiet of the room. The witch hummed against his throat but did not pull away, refusing to leave the comfort that his arms were providing her. Knowing she would not move, Charlie turned his head and moved his lips to the edge of her ear. "You told me once that you didn't care whether I was a Weasley, a Malfoy, or a flubberworm. You said all you cared about was that I love you as much as you love me, and I'm telling you right now, that hasn't changed one bit.

"What Avery did to you-" Charlie broke off, and shut his eyes tightly as though he too could see the visions in his mind. He gripped Amy a bit more tightly. "-What Avery did to you was terrible beyond words. He's a monster, and a coward, and I would kill him if I could. But this doesn't change anything."

"It changes everything!" Amy protested; her voice muffled against his neck. She shivered in his arms, hating the sound of her weak voice. "Everything has changed because of this!"

"But you haven't," Charlie whispered. His lips were still pressed against the shell of her ear, and his breath washed over her. "You're still Amy. You're brilliant, and you're witty, and incredibly kind, and you're absolutely the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen. I've thought that since the day I met you and I don't see it changing anytime soon. You're still that witch who laughed when I thought she was Dumbledore, and you're still the woman who was furious at the mere idea of students fighting dragons. You're the same person who worried more about her students and doing what was best by them than doing what was best by her. You're convinced you're selfish and damaged, but Amy, I can't think of another soul on the face of this planet who is as amazing as you.

"Yeah," Charlie conceded, "You're scarred, there's no denying that, but that scar says the exact opposite to everyone who sees it. It doesn't say that you're weak or inferior to anyone else, it says that you're strong and resilient and someone who would sacrifice anything, even herself. And that terrifies me."

Amy pulled her face from Charlie's neck, her eyes wide and wet, yet there was undeniable curiosity and wonder behind them.

"I terrify you?" she asked, not quite understanding what he was trying to say. Charlie smiled and laughed quietly before wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and pulling her flush against him.

"Love, the mere sight of you is enough to make grown men quake in their boots," he told her with complete sincerity. "I mean, look at you! Five-foot-six, hair crazy enough to rival Hermione's at times, and Merlin, don't even get me started on those eyes! You can give some pretty lethal glares, and even when you're not glaring, the intensity and the passion that's always there is breath-taking. It's impossible to look at you without feeling as though someone's punched me in the gut, and the simple fact that I get to wake up next to you every day – at least when you're not here – is enough to make me feel like the luckiest man on Earth.

"I'm not terrified of you, Amy," Charlie told the witch, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "I'm terrified of losing you. You're my everything. My happiness, my love, my life."

"But, this scar," Amy protested, hesitantly. "Doesn't it-"

"It's a scar!" Charlie cried. "A scar is a scar and it doesn't change who you are. I've got hundreds of scars and you still love me, right?" Amy nodded slowly, absentmindedly running her hand over one of the scars that adorned Charlie's forearm. "And Harry's got the most famous scar of all and his friends still love him despite it, don't they?" Again, the witch nodded, this time a little more surely. "So what makes you exempt from the scar-love?"

"Besides the fact that it singles me out because of my blood status?" Amy asked. "And it was created as a purposeful reminder of who I am?"

"Not who you are," Charlie argued. It almost sounded as though he was exasperated, as though he couldn't understand why Amy couldn't grasp what he was saying. "You're not defined by where you came from or by your blood status, no matter how much people want it to be like that. You're defined by who you are as a person, by what you do in your life, and by what you do to make this world, and your parents' world, a better place. You can't let this scar control who you are or you let Avery and Voldemort and all his followers win.

"I love you, Amy, and no scar, or Death Eater, or anything else is ever going to change that, I promise you."

The tears that Amy had been holding back finally streamed over, and she buried her face into Charlie's chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly in her fingers, while he stroked her hair, and pressed an affectionate kiss to her temple.

He'd rather have her scarred and in his arms that to not have her at all.

…..

For the first time since she had left the Burrow, Amy slept without nightmares, curled up against Charlie. Her nose was pressed against his chest, and their fingers entwined. She knew her life was far from perfect, and she knew their relationship was far from perfect too, but Amy also knew that she couldn't imagine her life any other way. She may never truly heal from her time in that cellar, the nightmares would never fade completely away, and her scar would remain forever, but none of that mattered, not to her at least, and it certainly didn't matter to him either.

And that was enough for her.

…..

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Hope you all enjoyed!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	61. Chapter 60

**Author's Note: **I am a terribly person. I can't believe I haven't updated in two months and I'm so sorry for that. I'm even more sorry that this chapter is mostly a filler... School's been crazy and even Spring Break is crazy. I'm currently in Mississippi on a Habitat for Humanity trip with my class. We've been working everyday starting at 8 am, and if these terrible sunburns of mine have anything to say, we've been working hard. I would've posted this last night, but the internet was down at the volunteer house. I've somehow managed to find a corner with WiFi, so please enjoy!

**Dedication: **To Bridgy and Mia for creating this wonderful trip!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

* * *

><p>Charlie didn't remain in the castle in the days following Ron's incident, but that's not to say that he and Amy were ever far apart. It seemed that Amy and Charlie found themselves together every night after classes had ended, usually in a secluded corner of the Three Broomsticks or the Hog's Head, or if they were too tired, one of the couches in Amy's quarters. Without any secrets harboring between them, the couple found that the only thing left to do was bask in the warmth of their love. They knew they were quickly becoming one of those obnoxiously in-love couples, but they honestly couldn't care. Everything was starting to fall into place; even with everything that was going on out in the Wizarding world, everything seemed to be going right with them at last.<p>

It was refreshing, for Amy at least, to be getting out of the castle. There was no doubt in her mind that being cooped up with hormonal teenagers did little to help her maintain her sanity. For the life of her, the witch couldn't understand how it was that each and every Hogwarts student seemed to have an entire lifetime of woes and heartache at their tender age. She hoped she and her friends hadn't been this melodramatic when they were in school.

Every day, Amy had new stories to tell Charlie about her students, many of them so far-fetched that she barely believed them herself, and as time went by, seemed to focus more and more on Ronald. The attention that boy seemed to be drawing to himself just seemed to increase by a tenfold as the days passed. In between being constantly hunted by his girlfriend – despite the fact that he was stationary in a hospital bed – and the awkward tension that was always brewing between him and Hermione, there was never a day that passed that didn't arise to a new story for Amy to tell. Charlie, of course, thought it was hilarious that his brother was stirring up so much trouble at Hogwarts, despite the admonishments that he received from Amy.

"Can't you talk to him?" Amy asked one night. She was nestled into the corner of her couch, with Charlie across from her. The leftovers from the dinner she stole from the kitchens were spread across the table, and all that remains is their cups of tea. They had decided to stay in that night; the both of them were too exhausted to do much else other than eat and talk. "I mean, you're his big brother! He'll listen to you, right?"

"Talk to him about what?" Charlie demanded, raising an eyebrow at the witch. "Having feelings? Being a teenage boy?" Amy rolled her eyes at her boyfriend.

"About stringing those girls along," she pressed. "I wouldn't care that much if it wasn't constantly being dragged into my classroom. If I have to hear Lavender Brown cry over her 'Won-Won' during another Charms lesson, I'm going to turn her into a shrub or anything else that is incapable of making noise." Charlie snorted at this exclamation and shook his head before taking a sip of his tea.

"I hope for her sake that it's at least a pretty shrub," he muttered as he placed his cup on the table next to them. Amy heard him and shook her head vehemently, her tired waves brushing back and forth over her shoulders.

"Oh Merlin, no," she protested. "It would be the ugliest shrub ever, thorns and all. I'd make sure it was."

"You'd make a pretty shrub," Charlie told her. He eyed her as though he was pondering over exactly what type of shrubbery she would be. "A little thorny, but pretty nonetheless."

"Oh really?" Amy asked, a smile lighting up her face. She leaned closer to the wizard and raised a questioning eyebrow. "You're not planning to turn me into a shrub any time soon, are you?"

"A very pretty shrub," Charlie reminded her, poking her lightly in the nose. Amy narrowed her eyes and made as though to bite his finger but he pulled away. "But thorny," he added.

Amy rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at the wizard who chuckled in return. There was a pause in the conversation as Charlie leaned over to get his cup of tea, and Amy took this moment to scoot out of her corner of the couch and into Charlie's side. Burrowing herself into his side, Amy pulled the throw from off the back of her couch and pulled it over them, allowing the warmth to nestle around them. Charlie smiled over his cup of tea and let his hand fall onto her shoulder, where his fingers immediately began to play with her curls.

"How was your day?" Amy asked after a moment. She had only just realized that she had forgotten to ask him that when he first arrived as she had been too frustrated with the whole Ron-Hermione-Lavender fiasco to think of anything else. The witch felt rather than saw Charlie shrug in response.

"Just like it's been every other day for the last few months," Charlie replied. Amy's eyes furrowed as she could almost detect a bitter edge in his voice. "The Ministry really couldn't care less about our department at the moment, and it's not like there's a huge need for the regulation of animals either. We've just sort of been forgotten about for the time being. It's exhausting how incredibly boring the office is right now, nothing like how I thought it would be when I left Romania."

Amy allowed Charlie's words to settle within her for a few minutes before she opened her mouth.

"Do you miss being in Romania?" she asked hesitantly. "With the dragons?"

Charlie chuckled a little at her question, completely missing her apparent apprehension.

"Of course, I do," he told Amy. "I loved living in Romania and I loved being with those dragons. I mean, yeah, I could live without the burns and the temperature changing from boiling to freezing every other day, but I miss the freedom and how every day, I came face to face with the unexpected." He paused for a moment, before turning himself to look down at Amy, who was staring pensively at her own cup of tea and biting her lip. "W-Why do you ask?"

Amy turned to face him with a peculiar look on her face, before she shook her head and shrugged. "Oh, it's nothing, really," she told him, her voice quiet. Charlie continued to look at her curiously as she continued to gnaw on her lip in her thoughtfulness. After a moment, she smiled weakly at him. "I just-" Amy broke off, unsure of how to continue. "I just don't want you to be unhappy, and I don't want you to regret this later on in life. I don't want you to regret being here and not there."

Charlie's forehead scrunched together curiously. "Regret what?" he asked. "Being here with my family, being here with _you_?" There was a pause that Amy filled with a disheartened shrug. Charlie looked at her in wonder, not really believing what he was seeing. "Amy, I could never regret being here, not if it means I get to spend my time with the people I love." Amy smiled softly, knowing that she was one of those people. "I mean, you don't regret coming here, do you?"

Amy sat up suddenly, shaking her head furiously as she twisted herself to face the wizard. "Of course not!" she exclaimed. "I mean, everything here, well, it's all I could ever want. Living here has given me an amazing career, and so many opportunities, and friends. Living here brought me to you." She paused as she looked at Charlie, leaning forward to brush a soft kiss to his cheek. "Of course, there are times where I do wish that I was back in Chicago, with my family and Georgie, and Kate, and Michelle, but then I remember that if I'm there, then I'm not here, which means I'm not with you."

"See?" Charlie asked smilingly. "Just because you miss where you've been and where you've come from doesn't mean you need to give up what you have now. I wouldn't give you up for anything. Heck, we could be living in a cardboard box in Knockturn Alley, and I would be fine with that as long as you were the person I was sharing my newspaper blanket with."

Amy laughed loudly at that, her eyes twinkling brightly. "Well thank you for that," she said through her giggles. "At least now I know I'll have a roomie if I'm ever thrown out of my apartment."

"You're very welcome, my dear professor," Charlie replied. He looped an arm around Amy's shoulder and pulled her back into his side. Amy hummed in contentment as she burrowed into his warmth. He pressed his face into her hair, kissing the top of her head softly. "And just so you know," he began, causing Amy to lean her head back to catch his blue eyes, "no dragon is going to pull me away from you any time soon."

"I would hope not," Amy laughed. "I don't know if I would be able to take on a dragon so as to save my redheaded damsel-in-distress." She smiled teasingly at the wizard and ran her hand through his hair, tugging on the ends of it as she did.

"So, you would let the dragon keep me?" Charlie gasped. "I thought you loved me!" Amy shrugged and laughed a little.

"Oh, I do!" she told the wizard. "I just don't know if I want to be the main course of a dragon's dinner. Plus, I could probably do without the snoring at night."

Charlie let out a quiet laugh before the two fell into a comfortable silence. They seemed to have been doing that a lot as of late, taking solace in the other's presence. With everything that had been happening in recent months, it was a relief to both of them to be able simply to sit and rest, knowing that the other was near them.

They were comfortable, they were happy, and they were in love.

…..

"Tonks?"

Amy's voice echoed through the silence of the empty hallway. The witch had been taking a stroll around the upper floors of the castle, trying to clear her mind, when she had stumbled upon her mousy haired friend. With her shoulders hunched and her clothes made of mute fabrics, Amy almost didn't recognize her; things in the last few months had certainly not been easy on the young Auror and it was beginning to show, quite evidently.

"Tonks, what are you doing here?" Amy asked, a bright smile spreading across her face. She hadn't seen her friend in so long, and she could easily admit that she had missed her dearly. Tonks gave Amy a wan smile in return, tugging at the drooping ends of her brown hair.

"Looking for Dumbledore," Tonks told Amy softly. "But he's apparently away from the castle." Amy nodded in understanding.

"It's been that way for a while now," Amy informed her friend, and the two easily fell into step next to each other. "We're not exactly sure what he's doing or what he's looking for, but you can't really go about questioning the doings of Albus Dumbledore, can you?" Tonks laughed, although it was hollow and nothing close to what the witch's rambunctious laugh usually sounded like.

"No, I don't suppose you can," the Metamorphmagus said dryly. Amy turned to look at the witch, and it was only then that she realized that her eyes were rimmed with red and there were tracks of tears on her pale face. Amy stopped abruptly and grabbed Tonks' arm, forcing her to a halt in the middle of the corridor.

"Tonks, are you alright?" Amy's voice was light and careful but one couldn't deny the evident strength behind it.

Tonks shook her head, keeping her lips pursed together as she did so. Her eyes were wide and rimmed with red, and Amy felt her heart ache for her clearly distressed friend.

"Tonks," Amy said again, though in a much gentler tone, "you can tell me anything." The professor kepy her soft gaze on her friend, willing her to reveal what it was that was causing her so much stress. The Auror bit her lip, looking as though she was about to say something, before she changed her mind and shook her head vehemently.

"No," she said softly. "No, it's nothing. I'm just being silly is all." She moved as though to brush passed Amy, but the teacher caught her arm, stopping her in her steps.

"If it's nothing," Amy said tightly, a fake smile plastered on her face, "then you won't mind joining me for a cup of tea."

Tonks' eyes went wide and she shook her head again in protest. "I really don't have the time," she argued, trying to weakly pull herself from Amy's grasp, but Amy held firm.

"Oh, but I insist," Amy cried, tugging Tonks down the hall to her room. "It's only tea after all."

…..

Amy set the cup of tea in front of Tonks, before settling down into her seat. Across from her, now, was not Charlie but Tonks, who looked incredibly awkward in her seat. Amy knew it was not because she actually felt awkward around her, but because she really didn't want to be there. Yet, quite frankly, Amy didn't care about that; at least, not in that moment she didn't.

"Sugar?" Amy asked. She held up the small tray of sugar she had but Tonks shook her head, preferring to drink her tea and get out as soon as possible.

Amy knew what she was doing; she knew Tonks was uncomfortable, and she knew she was doing little to make her feel at ease. That wasn't why she had insisted on tea. No, she had not dragged the Auror to her room to chat over terribly brewed tea – she really was a terrible cook – but to figure out what exactly was up with her dear friend.

Tonks had been out of whack for months now, and Amy's maternal instincts were beginning to show. Oh course, she had a sinking suspicion what it was that was bothering the witch, and she didn't want her friend going through something like that on her own. Amy knew what it was like to feel as though the one you loved didn't love you back; she had felt that with Charlie months ago, after their first kiss. She knew how Tonks must have been feeling and it was her responsibility as Tonks' friend to show her that she wasn't alone. If that meant that Amy had to kidnap her and force her to drink terribly watered down tea then so be it.

"So," Amy began with a fake air of enthusiasm, "what's new in your life? What was it that you had to see Professor Dumbledore about?"

Tonks said nothing as she stared down at her cup of tea, watching as weak puffs of steam curled around her cup. Amy noted the witch's silence but did not let it deter her.

"It must have been something important if you were looking for the Headmaster. Did something happen at work or what?"

Silence crept over the witches, and Amy took a delicate sip of her bitter tea, though she could slowly feel her patience ebbing away. She supposed if Tonks was going to behave like a twelve year old, then Amy had the right to do so as well. So, the professor dug deep into her repertoire of elementary school immaturity, looking for a way to get what she wanted.

"No matter," Amy continued brightly, although there was now an obvious tightness in her voice. "You don't have to tell me anything." There was another moment of silence and Amy felt her patience begin to slip away. "I mean, it's not like we're friends or anything, and I certainly haven't told you everything about the last few months or something like th-"

Amy broke off suddenly as Tonks threw down her cup, tea spilling out and staining the carpet a dark color. Amy slowly set down her own cup as she watched her friend hold her head in her hands, gripping her mousy hair as her shoulders shook. Whatever anger and impatience she had moments ago died away, and she felt her heart ache in sympathy as she took in Tonks' hunched and defeated form.

Carefully, Amy scooted closer to Tonks and draped an arm over her, pulling her into an embrace. The Auror froze for a moment before slumping against Amy in search of comfort, her shoulders still shaking.

"C'mon, Tonks," Amy said softly, her voice void of the brightness from earlier. "What's wrong? What's happened? Something has been for wrong for a while now; you haven't been yourself at all. Please tell me, so I can help you. Please, Tonks."

There was a loud sniffle from behind Tonks' curtain of mousy hair before the Auror slowly raised her head, her eyes rimmed in bright red. She opened her mouth several times before she murmured something so low that even Amy couldn't hear her from her position on the couch. Amy leaned closer to her friend, wanting to hear what had been causing her so much consternation. Yet, what she heard from Tonks' pale lips was not what she expected.

"He loves me."

Amy froze in her seat, unsure of what she had to say. This wasn't what she was expecting. She wasn't expecting that Tonks' issue, the thing that had been bothering her for months, was that the man she loved returned her feelings. She, of course, knew Tonks' feelings towards Remus – they had that conversation _months_ ago – but she hadn't realized that the werewolf reciprocated them, and to that extent either. Remus was so quiet, so reserved, that it had never really occurred to Amy that he could be a man of passionate feelings.

Yet the question remained: what was the issue if he did love her?

Tonks should be rejoicing, not crying her eyes out and finding herself incapable of using her Metamorphagus skills to their full extent.

"Tonks," Amy whispered, her eyes wide with delight and reservation, "that's fantastic. He loves you; you know that he loves you!"

Amy had expected that to soothe her, for Tonks to sit up with sudden wonder and for her hair to shoot back to its bubblegum pink. She didn't expect her to hunch over even further and sob into her hands with no hint of embarrassment. Amy's concern for the witch sky-rocketed and she pulled Tonks deeper into her embrace, desperate to provide some sort of solace to the witch.

Making gentle shushing noises, Amy kept her arms tight around Tonks while she cried. The entire time, the Auror took gulping breaths, trying to get her words out but failing each time.

"Dora," Amy said softly, reverting to the witch's first name, "Dora, please what's wrong? You should be so happy right now." Tonks let out a half-sob mingled with a bitter laugh.

"Yeah," she began softly, "I should be happy, shouldn't I? And yet here I am crying because the man who loves me refuses to be with me!"

"But why?" Amy asked. "If he loves you like he says he does, then why on earth would he refuse to be with you?"

"He thinks he's too old," Tonks bemoaned, "and too poor, and that his lycanthropy makes him dangerous, but I know that he would never hurt me or anyone else, not in a million years."

"Have you told him this?" Amy asked, trying to make her voice as soothing as possible. "Have you told him that you don't care about all of that? I mean, misfortunes make you a better person, they make you a stronger person, and Remus has certainly had his fair share of misfortunes."

"Don't you think I've tried telling him that?" Tonks demanded, looking up at her friend with sudden anger. "I've tried talking to him, but time and time again he refuses to listen to me!"

"Then make him!" Amy urged, grabbing Tonks' hand and holding it tightly. "Tonks, you're one of the strongest, most courageous people that I've ever known. _Make_ him listen to you. I mean, I thought that Charlie would never talk to me again before we got together, and I was so afraid of being rejected, but I took it upon myself and I made him listen. I'd say my argument was rather convincing; after all, we're together now, aren't we?

"Talk to him," Amy repeated urgently. She gripped Tonks' hand a little tighter until the Auror turned to look at her. "Talk to him and make him realize that the best thing that will ever happen to him is you, just like what I did with Charlie."

Tonks looked hopelessly at Amy, and the witch felt her heart ache in despair at the heartbroken appearance in her friend's eyes. This was not the Tonks she knew; she wasn't happy or purple haired; she was grey and depressed. She remembered feeling that exact way months ago, and she hoped with all her heart that Remus would see the error of his ways before Tonks lost herself entirely.

…..

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Like I said, not very good but it is something.

Don't forget to review!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	62. Chapter 61

**AN:** Ah hahaha... aren't I such a good author? I would never dream of abandoning my loyal readers for a month without a word... no... never... Well, this is awkward... Hopefully the fact that this chapter is twice as long as the last makes up for my absence.

**Dedication: **To Lily and Izzie and Adan! Happy belated birthdays!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing you recognize.

* * *

><p>The weeks after Amy's run-in with Tonks consisted of the witch spending her little free time in-between hanging with Charlie and worrying over the mental state of the Metamorphagus. She had told Charlie the basis of their conversation, and Charlie agreed that Tonks should continue to try and talk to Remus. It was obvious that he too was worried about the witch, and since he had attended his time at Hogwarts, he desperately wished to see the witch as happy as he was.<p>

Yet as the summer drew closer, Charlie found himself being pulled back into his work and having to stay later and later in each night in the office. Amy would have been disappointed about this were it not for the fact that she had so little time to think of anything other than the approaching end-of-year exams. Her fifth and seventh years in particular were concerning her as they had their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s looming over their heads, but Amy also found herself growing increasingly more worried about her sixth years, and several Gryffindors in particular.

Amy knew that as the Head of Ravenclaw house that she should have been more worried about the welfare of her own students, but the disconcerting and troublesome nature of the Gryffindors seemed to have turned Amy away from her own students. It wasn't like the Ravenclaws needed her help anyway, the little geniuses.

No, it was three Gryffindors that had caught Amy's attention, and not for the first time – or for the last time if Amy knew them as well as she thought she did. In between Ronald's messy relationship with Hermione and Lavender and Harry's increasing broodiness, Amy found herself becoming more and more worried about the 'Golden Trio.'

There was no question that something had happened recently that had upset the fragile equilibrium that was the peace in their life, although whether it was due to personal matters or worldly matters, Amy wasn't sure. She assumed it to be a mixture of both.

This, of course, became even more evident on this particular day in class. She had assigned her sixth-year students to the simple task of turning vinegar into wine – or at least, it was simple for her… the teacher… She knew it was a charm that many struggled with, but she also knew that when she was in school, there had been several parties where that charm had come in handy.

Also, it was likely that it would appear on their end-of-year exams, so they should probably know it.

After instructing the teens on how to properly cast the spell, Amy had set them free to practice the charm to their heart's content. This, of course, meant that half of her kids did absolutely nothing while the others worked their hardest to get the spell right. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were, of course, hard at work, and the Gryffindors, for the most part, were also working hard. Yet, there were a few select students who seemed to have deemed this class time as their own personal gossip session.

From her place at the front of the classroom, Amy could plainly see Hermione, Ron, and Harry's blatant ignorance of the task she had assigned as they turned towards each other to converse amongst themselves. This witch narrowed her eyes as she watched them; Hermione's concern, Ron's confusion, and the urgent look on Harry's face all signaled to Amy that something was amiss.

Yet, there was little she could do at that moment, for she had twenty or so other students all demanding her attention. She did, however, keep a watchful eye on the trio, curiosity brewing within her. She made a mental note to make her way over to them as soon as possible, but for now, she would have to focus on several of her other students who appeared as though they were about to blow up their goblets within moments.

Amy made her way about the room, instructing her students and showing them the proper movement and pronunciation of the spell. By the time she made it half way to the back of the classroom, Lavender Brown was sobbing and Hermione Granger was covered in snow with a guilty looking Ron seated beside her. Amy's eyes narrowed even further, and with a furrowed brow, Amy sent Lavender to the restroom, telling the girl that she was dismissed from class until she was feeling better.

She watched the teen leave the room, still sobbing dramatically, before making her way to the desk furthest in the back.

Hermione was the first to see her coming, and she immediately nudged Ron in the side. The red head grimaced in pain at Hermione's bony elbow in his ribs, but when he too caught sight of Amy approaching them, he immediately straightened himself so that he was facing the front of the classroom as well.

Amy approached their desk with a bright, albeit slightly fake, smile. Hermione had plastered a light face of her own on as she attempted to pull off the studious, teacher's-pet face; she had worn it so much that it wasn't hard for her to switch it on and off. Ron and Harry, however, weren't quite as good at pulling it off as their counterpart.

"Alright, everyone," Amy began happily, "let's see how you're doing with the charm."

Ron and Harry shared mutual looks of hesitation as Hermione waved her wand over the goblet of vinegar, turning the clear liquid to a gorgeous burgundy color. Amy lifted the rim to her nose to sniff the liquid, breathing in the sweet smell of the perfectly aged wine. She set down the goblet in front of the teen with a real smile this time.

"It's perfect," she conceded, and she was graced with an ecstatic smile from Hermione who muttered a tiny, "Thank you," before Amy moved onto the boys, who looked extremely disconcerted after having watched their friend perfect the spell in a single try.

"How about you, boys?" she asked, noting the twin wary looks that passed between the boys. "What have you got to show?"

Needless to say, it came as no shock to anyone when neither Ron nor Harry was able to accomplish the spell. Amy merely gave them a disapproving look paced with curious eyes.

"Less talk next time boys," Amy scorned them. "Less talk, more practice." She was unable to say much more as she was distracted by an explosion at another table where Seamus Finnegan had caused his vinegar goblet to explode. As she walked around the edge of the table, heading towards the soot covered teen, Amy gave the trio a look of warning.

"Yes, for homework," she told them as she moved around the desk, "_practice._"

They gave obedient nods, but Amy could tell that they did not take her words to heart. She knew that once she had left the premises, they would fall back into their conversation, yet there was little she could do about it seeing as Seamus's hair was smoldering.

After she had managed to smother the burn hair and clean up the exploded goblet and stench of strong vinegar, Amy looked back at their table, but they seemed to have taken her hint and were conversing much more discretely than before, so that if it weren't for the fact that they were turned in towards each other and their wands were resting on their desk, she may not have known.

She had hoped to catch one of them on their way out of class, but they seemed to have agendas of their own; Harry appeared to be off in his own little world while Hermione and Ron were content to exit the room with their shoulders brushing against the others. Amy watched them exit the room, followed closely by the other students before she braced herself against the front of her desk, her shoulders slumped. Amy let out a loud sigh and ran a hand through her hair; each day seemed to pass more slowly than the last, and each one made her more and more exhausted. She couldn't wait for the start of summer, nor could she wait for all this drama to die down. She was tired of having to deal with the tears and gossip and the incessant need for students to stir up continuous drama.

Despite this rocky start to her morning, Amy's day surprisingly got better as it went on. It was on her way down to the Great Hall that she came upon Katie Bell, the student who months ago had been attacked in Hogsmeade while under Amy's care. It had been weeks since Amy had received news from St. Mungo's, and she had all but given up hope on the girl ever recovering. Yet, there she was, surrounded by her friends and smiling brightly. It was almost as though the Hogsmeade incident had never occurred.

"Katie!" Amy proclaimed, drawing the girl's attention away from her friends. The witch made her way closer to the teen, smiling brightly. "How are you feeling?"

Katie gave the professor a half smile and a shrug. "As well as can be expected," she told the teacher lightly. "It's nice to be back."

Amy laughed quietly. "I would expect so," she agreed. "Hogwarts has a particularly soothing effect on you, especially after being stuck in the hospital for a while." Katie nodded her assent, still smiling brightly. "And how have your lessons been so far?"

Again, the teen shrugged. "I'm still getting back into the swing of everything," she told Amy. "I'm a bit behind in my courses; seems like a lot happened while I was gone."

"Well, if you need anything," Amy told her, placing a warm hand on her shoulder, "please, come and find me. I'm here to help after all." Katie smiled again at her teacher.

"I will," she assured Amy. "Thanks, and I'll see you in class!" She waved over her shoulder as she went to rejoin her friends, and Amy felt a small wave of relief wash over her. She had hurried and felt terribly guilty about Katie for months now, and to have her back in school, smiling and talking with her friends, made Amy feel as though everything was final returning to normal. Or at least, semi-normal.

She and Charlie were as happy as could be, and with no secrets brewing between them, there was no need for them to be hesitant or wary around the other. They were still that incredibly obnoxious couple, but everything between them was so much meaningful and everything felt so incredibly right. Every conversation, every argument, every touch, and every kiss were so important to them, and neither of them could see themselves anywhere else but with each other.

Amy shook these thoughts from her; she was becoming much too mushy for her own good and it was better to stop her fluffy thoughts before they got too far. She was a grown woman, and yet she constantly felt like a teenager.

At least she could say that she was still more mature than Ron Weasley.

…..

Amy was tutoring when she heard the screams. She had several fifth years clustered in her classroom, desperately studying for their upcoming exams. Amy had opened her room up to all of her classes, knowing that the end of the year exams would be tough on all of them, and she frequently had a group of O.W.L. students in her room. Some would pop in for ten minutes or so, just to ask some questions or go over some charms with her, while others would stay until it was time for them to return to their dorms after dinner. They had started to realize that Amy's classroom not only offered sanctuary from their classmates but that it was rather beneficial to have a teacher at their academic beck-and-call. Plus, it didn't hurt that she was able to help them with their other classes as well; she had been a 'well-rounded' student while she was in school after all.

Yet, it turns out that someone screaming bloody murder – quite literally by the sounds of what they were crying – did not make a pleasant work environment.

The screams had started an hour or so into Amy's study session, and the shrill cries had her students jumping in their seats and looking around with wide eyes. Amy, too, found herself startled by the screams, and she clutched her heart in an attempt to soothe its rapid beats. She stared at the door for several moments, her forehead furrowed as she listened intently to the screams. It wasn't until the screams had actually stopped that Amy realized that her students were staring at her with bewilderment. They clearly didn't understand what Amy was still doing in her classroom when it sounded like a student was being murdered just down the hall. Amy didn't even know what she was still doing in her classroom.

Setting down her papers, Amy moved quickly to the doors, already drawing her wand from the sleeve of her sweater.

"I want everyone to stay in here," she ordered, not bothering to look back. Her sole attention was on finding out what had happened to cause such a ruckus in the halls. "Keep studying and I'll be back as soon as I can."

The door to her classroom swung shut behind her as she walked into the hall. She had but a moment before she was forced to step back as a student went racing passed her at full speed.

"No running in the halls!" Amy called after the student. She contemplated for a moment going after the student before remembering that she had much more important business to attend to. She needed to find out where that screaming was coming from.

Amy paused as she thought about which way to go before turning and hurrying down the hall from the direction the student had run from. The halls were empty, though this wasn't too surprising. Spring had certainly made its way onto the grounds and most students were embracing the warmth and sun out in the courtyard or down by the lake. This, of course, made it much easier for Amy to find the source of the cries, although the rush of leaking water was also a hint.

As she drew closer to the sound of hysterical sobs, Amy found herself splashing through puddles of water and shattered porcelain, all of which seemed to be seeping into the halls from Moaning Myrtles bathroom. With her wand still drawn, Amy carefully pushed the door to the bathroom open, her eyes quickly scanning the room for any sign of danger. Yet all she found, much to her horror, was Snape standing in a puddle of water streaked with bright crimson blood.

"Merlin, Snape," Amy gasped. "What the hell happened here?" The professor turned towards her, his normally snipe face grim. Amy carefully stepped into the room, trying to avoid the puddles of bloody water but to no avail. Her shoes quickly grew sopping wet with blood and water, a though which she quickly pushed from her mind.

"Draco Malfoy was attacked," he informed her. His voice was tight and harsh, and Amy stared around the broken room. "Dark Magic."

"Dark Magic?" Amy repeated, not fully comprehending what he was saying. Who in the world would want to use Dark Magic against a student? What possible threat could a student pose that would require the use of a curse that would cause this much damage? "He's fortunate that you were here to aid him."

"He's fortunate I knew the countercurse," he replied bitterly. He eyed the bloody water disdainfully. "Few people know it, and his wounds would have been fatal."

Amy's heart clenched tightly at Snape's words, and she felt a queasiness rise up in her stomach as she looked at the bloody water once more. Sure, she may not be Draco Malfoy's biggest fan, and she may not approve of his attitude and opinions, but that did not mean that she wished to see him hurt. He was one of her students, albeit not one of her best, but a student nonetheless. She would hate to see any of her students hurt, especially when they were supposed to be under her and the other teachers' protection.

"Well, we need to tell the Headmaster what's happened," Amy said quietly, still trying to ignore the bloody water. "We need to find out who did this immediately."

"There's no need to worry about that," Snape interrupted her. "That's been taken care of."

Amy cocked her head, not really sure what he was saying. No need to worry? There was a deranged student on the loose, casting Dark Magic at his peers! Why in the name of Merlin was there no reason to worry? Unless…

"Wait," Amy started, crossing her arms over her chest. "You mean you know who did this?" Snape nodded slowly at her. He eyed her disbelievingly, as though he was just realizing that _she_ was just realizing. Behind this, Amy could clearly detect a hint of smugness before his face went slack once more. In the hall, loud steps could be heard echoing off the cobblestone floors.

"Who was it?" Amy demanded, ignoring the approaching steps in the hall.

Before Snape could answer, the door to the bathroom burst open, and a student stood in the doorway. Amy jumped as the door slammed against the wall, and she turned, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the new lighting filtering in through the door, but when they finally did her eyes grew wide in shock.

"Harry?" she gasped. Her eyes must have been deceiving her. There must be some kind of mistake. She eyed his soaked form and the stains of blood in his school shirt, and for the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, Amy realized that there was much more to this teen than she ever could have anticipated.

Snape said nothing at Harry's sudden appearance. His only response was to outstretch his hand and raise an expectant eyebrow. Amy watched in the background as Harry took several steps forward, his sneakers squeaking on the wet floor, as he deposited his book bag into his hands. With a wary eye on the teenager, Snape began to dig through the bag, examining each and every object he pulled out until there was only one remaining.

Slowly, Snape removed shiny copy of the school Potions textbook. Amy had remained silently during this time and she took these moments to observe the teen in front of her. Despite the fact that he was hunched over as he tried to gather his breath after his sprint down the hall, he was still considerably taller than her. His hair was incredibly messy and he was no longer the scrawny fourth year that she had met. She almost smiled as she remembered that terrible haircut he had just three years ago. It was rather surprising, now that she thought of it. She had been at Hogwarts for almost three entire years and her entire life had changed during that time, mostly for the better. Her students had certainly made her life better, and so had her new friends Tonks and Minerva and Molly, and of course, Charlie. Always Charlie. Yet, in between all these things that had been happening with her, Amy had somehow managed to forget that there were things happening with her own students that she never would have expected.

"This is your copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_, is it, Potter?"

Amy was pulled from her thoughts as Snape began to speak quietly. Severus was still carefully examining the Potions book he had found within Harry's bag. He was flipping through the pages, investigating each one closely as though he expected some answer to be written out in front of him.

"Yes," Harry responded, still out of breath. Amy noted that he did not look Snape in the eye as he said this, choosing instead to look passed him at a broken mirror.

"You're quite sure of that, are you, Potter?" There was something in his tone that made Amy think that Snape didn't believe him. Why it matter whose book it was, Amy didn't know, and frankly she didn't care, but apparently Snape thought it was of the utmost importance.

"Yes," Harry reinforced. This time, he chose to look towards Snape directly. An angry tension began to brew between the two, and Amy cleared her throat uncomfortably.

"This is the copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ that you purchased from Flourish and Blotts?"

Again Harry nodded, and Amy could tell that he was quickly becoming antsy with this interrogation, and quite honestly Amy was growing impatient as well.

"Why does that matter, Severus?" she asked quietly. "It's book. No harm has ever come from a book."

Both Harry and Snape glance sideways at her, as though they knew something that she didn't.

"If this is your book," Snape continued, as though Amy had said nothing, "then why does it have the name 'Roonil Wazlib' written inside the front cover?"

"That's my nickname," Harry said very quickly, much too quickly for either of the teacher's tastes.

"Your nickname," Snape repeated. It was clear to both Amy and Harry that he did not believe the teen in the slightest. There were several moments of silence, broken only by the dripping of a nearby pipe. Amy shifted uncomfortably in her place by the wall. It felt as though she shouldn't be there, and she remembered her students waiting for her back in the Charms classroom, but at the same time, Amy knew that she couldn't leave Harry alone with Snape.

"Do you know what I think, Potter?" Snape asked quietly, after several minutes of silence. Amy looked quickly to her colleague, noting the cold look in his dark eyes. "I think that you are a liar and a cheat and that you deserve a detention with me every Saturday until the end of term." Harry's jaw dropped a bit, before he straightened himself up. "What do you think, Potter?"

"I-I don't agree, sir," Harry argued, though he still refused to look Snape in the eye.

"Well, we shall see how you feel after your detentions," Snape replied briskly. "Ten o'clock Saturday morning, Potter. My office."

Harry looked up suddenly as though he had just remembered something. "But sir," he started hastily. "Quidditch… the last match of the…" Harry trailed off, hoping that Snape would grant him some mercy for this first time in his Hogwarts career.

Alas, Snape simply smirked.

"Ten o'clock," he repeated. "Poor Gryffindor… fourth place this year, I fear…" He let his words linger in the musty air of the decrepit bathroom before striding from the room, leaving Amy and Harry alone.

It took the teen a moment to realize that Amy was still there, but when he did, he turned to her, his face lighting up with hope.

"Professor," he began imploringly, "please, it's the last match of the season. I'm the captain of the team! There has to be something you can do." He looked pleadingly at her, and Amy wouldn't have been surprised if he fell to his knees.

She wished she could do something, say something at least to appease the boy. Every Saturday for the rest of the term was somewhat extensive, but at the same time, what Harry had done to Draco was not excusable. Amy didn't doubt that exceptions had been made for the boy in the past; he was everyone's Golden Boy, except for the Slytherin house, of course, but he was still a student and he had broken the rules. What kind of student would she be if she allowed her students to go about undisciplined after using Dark Magic? He may not have meant to really hurt Draco, but that didn't mean he shouldn't be punished for using magic that he didn't understand.

"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for you, Harry," Amy said quietly, her tone void of any friendliness. "It's not my detention to take back."

Amy saw any hope of Harry's slip from his face, and his shoulders slumped forward. There was a moment of silence before Amy turned to the door.

"Come on," she said softly. "You should head back to your dorm and change." She gestured for him to exit the bathroom and he gave a desolate nod, before gathering his books back into his bag and slowly exiting the room, sparing the professor no glance.

The witch stood in the bathroom for several minutes after he had left, examining the broken mirror and cracked sinks from which water was dripping.

If this was what Hogwarts looked like before the war had started, and in the hands of mere students, who knew what would become of the castle after the war had ended, and worse, to the souls and innocence of its students. Amy didn't know if she could bear to imagine that inevitable, cruel world, and so she too exited the room.

She walked slowly down the hall, her arms crossed over her chest as she looked blankly ahead. It had never crossed her mind that Harry Potter, the same boy who was supposed to save the entire world, was capable of the same evil that he was fighting against. True, he was just a teenager and he hadn't meant any harm; he didn't know what the spell was capable of, and surely if he had then he wouldn't have used it. It all made Amy think; if a sixteen year old was capable of using Dark Magic, what was stopping the rest of the world from using it as well? What was it that made people good? Was it a choice or was it innate? Would there come a time when she turned away from good or a time when she would hurt the ones she loved?

"Professor?"

Amy turned suddenly, realizing that she had walked right passed her classroom. A blonde Ravenclaw stood in the middle of the hall, holding an egg in her hand. The girl smiled brightly at her Professor and held up the egg.

"I think I finally got that charm down," she announced proudly. "Could you come and see?"

A small smile bloomed across Amy's face.

"Of course," she replied before eagerly following her student back into the classroom.

…..

The weekend came much slower than Amy anticipated, and it was greatly welcomed by all. Tensions, of course, were running high between the houses as that Saturday was the final match of the season, which also meant that the winner would be walking away with the Quidditch Cup. After a quick breakfast, Amy and the other faculty members followed the students down onto the Quidditch pitch where the teams were already waiting.

Looking briefly at her watch, Amy saw that it was nearing ten o'clock, and glancing down at the Gryffindor team, she noted that their messy haired captain was nowhere to be seen. She sighed quietly and spared an anxious McGonagall a small smile. If Amy knew one thing for sure about Minerva McGonagall, it was that she was a competitive woman, especially when it came to Quidditch. Amy truly believed she would do anything to make sure her team won, and Amy was also certain that not having her star Seeker was not doing anything to soothe her nerves.

The Gryffindor house as a whole had been upset to find out that Harry would not be able to make this game, but they had somehow managed to wrangle together a somewhat functioning team at the very last minute. While no one would ever doubt the Seeking skills of one Harry Potter, the team had still found a sufficient substitute in Ginny Weasley while her spot was being covered by Dean Thomas. It was perfect by no means, but it at least gave them a fighting chance.

"Fancy seeing you here," a quiet voice broke in through Amy's thoughts. The witch turned quickly and to her surprise, and joy, Charlie's face was smiling back at her.

"Charlie!" she proclaimed happily, watching as he stepped over the bench to sit down next to her. "What are you doing here?"

"Did you really expect me to miss this match?" he asked. He looked out towards the Quidditch pitch and sighed nostalgically. "I mean, I wouldn't want to miss your Ravenclaw smarties being crushed by my little brother and sister."

Amy threw him a sidelong look. "Yeah right," she laughed. "Like your Gryffindors have a chance against Ravenclaw." She leaned over and nudged him with her shoulder, earning a small grin from her boyfriend in return.

"We'll just have to wait and see who's right, now won't we?" he asked.

"Come on now," Amy protested. "Of course I'm right! I'm a teacher!" She laughed quietly as Charlie rolled his eyes at this. His reply was cut off as the whistle blew and the game began.

…..

For what she argued was the first time ever, Amy was proven wrong. Gryffindor did end up winning the match, much to her chagrin and Charlie's pleasure. He, of course, had winked at her and told her to go easy on herself, and with a promise to come by later to make sure that wasn't weeping in her sorrows, Charlie excused himself to go and congratulate his sister and brother. Before retreating to her room, Amy made sure to intercept Minerva on her way to the festivities. She congratulated her and her team and left the witch smiling broadly.

Charlie didn't come by her room for several more hours, but Amy didn't worry. She suspected that he was reminiscing his glory days to anyone and everyone in the Gryffindor common room. She, in turn, made herself busy by going through paperwork and attempting to get through a pile of essays before he dropped in.

When he finally did arrive at her room, Amy was curled up on the couch with a stack of papers resting on her knees and a red quill in her hand. She didn't look up as he entered but instead focused on the line of the essay which she was grading.

"Hey babe," she said absentmindedly. She hunched forward to add a comment to the margins of the paper. "How was the party?" Amy smiled a bit at this, waiting for Charlie to answer.

Yet, the wizard remained surprisingly silent. After several moments of him not replying, Amy looked up, pushing her glasses up her nose to peer curiously at her boyfriend.

He was standing with his back to the door, and his blue eyes were unfocused and unseeing. His mouth hung open like a fish, and he was shaking his head in disbelief.

"Charlie?" Amy asked worriedly. She put the stack of papers down on the table in front of her, along with her quill. "Charlie, are you alright? Has something happened?"

This seemed to snap Charlie from his trance, and he turned to face the witch, fury building up behind his eyes.

"Damn straight, something's happened," he spit. "I can't believe this!" He let out a snort of anger, and Amy's eyes widened with worry. It wasn't often that she saw Charlie this worked up, and it could only mean one thing: something serious had occurred.

"What is it?" she asked. "What's happened?"

"It was- In the comm- How could-" Charlie struggled to get his words out, as his fury overwhelmed his senses.

"Charlie," Amy broke in, "take a breath." She waited until she saw him take a staggered, angry breath before continuing. "Now, what happened?"

There was a moment of silence before –

"Harry and Ginny kissed," Charlie informed her through clenched teeth. He let out a few angry breaths and was about to go on a rampage when Amy cut him off with loud laughter. Charlie looked up at her disbelievingly; he did not understand what she thought was so funny.

"Why in the name of Merlin are you laughing?" Charlie demanded furiously.

Amy giggled a bit more, not deterred by Charlie's anger.

"I thought something _serious_ had happened!" she finally got out. "I mean with the way you stomped in here I thought perhaps you had just dueled someone! Who knew you could be some melodramatic over something as simple as a kiss!" She laughed again.

"Simple?" Charlie asked in disbelief. "_Simple?_ That-That _tosser_ kissed my sister! There's nothing simple about that!"

"Harry is not a tosser," Amy said calmly, "and you know that. You like Harry! He's a good kid, and it's about time that he kissed her anyway!"

"I don't care if he's a good kid," Charlie protested. "She's my sister and he is-he is violating her mouth!" Charlie looked horrified at these words, and Amy raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I don't think it's violating if she wants him to kiss her," she said softly, ignoring Charlie's indignant look. "Now come on, I'm getting lonesome over here."

She gestured for him to join her on the loveseat, and he did, slowly trudging over to her as he mulled over his thoughts. Amy managed to pull him down next to her, and she wrapped her arms around his torso and burrowed into his shoulder. He, in return, absentmindedly looped an arm around her shoulder and played with the tips of her hair.

"I don't understand why you're making such a big deal out of this," Amy said quietly. "I mean, you know he would never do anything to hurt her, right? And even if he did, she could take him down in a heartbeat."

"I know that," Charlie admitted, "but, she's my little sister. She's my _only_ sister. I've got to be able to play the overprotective brother card at one point."

"Well, she's got five other brothers who can do that," she told him. "Why don't you be the brother she doesn't hate? I know that I like Richard just a tad bit more when he ignores my extracurriculars." She turned to face Charlie and waggled her eyebrows at him, and he distinctly remembered that her older brother had walked in on them in a rather compromising position. He blanched immediately at the thought of walking in on his _sister_ in a similar position.

"Nope," he said tightly. "She needs all six, and even that's not going to be enough." He paused for a moment. "We should just lock her up until she's old and gray."

Amy laughed again. "Like you could ever get away with that!"

Charlie glared at her from the corner of his eye before returning to his thoughts on how exactly he was going to protect his sister's honor. Amy shifted so that she could admire his profile. His eyes were sparkling despite the dim lighting and his jaw was clenched as he contemplated all the ways he would kill Harry Potter. Amy smiled slightly, clearly enjoying this brotherly side of him, and for a moment, she could almost see him planning all the ways that he was going to keep their daughter away from boys…

Amy's eyes widened as this thought crossed her mind, and she quickly turned so that she was no longer facing Charlie. He didn't seem to notice that her breathing had hitched and her heart was racing, and she took solace in that. How could she possibly have let that thought cross her mind? Especially now when the entire Wizarding world was falling apart at the hands of a madman. Whatever the case, she sure as hell wasn't going to let that thought back in, no matter how much the idea of Charlie cradling a baby with red-brown peach fuzz and bright blue eyes appealed to her. Not even then.

Instead, she forced herself to focus on the feel of his body pressed against her side and the warmth of his arm around her shoulder. She could worry about all of that later, when she was sure that they would have infinite time together. Then they could worry about the future and the possibility of little Weasleys. For now though…

"What did you mean when you said it was about time?"

Amy was sure her laughter could be hear out in the hall, above Charlie's indignant protests.

…..

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> I hope you guys enjoyed! I've really struggled with the last few chapters of this book but I think this chapter, and that last bit with Amy and Charlie, haven gotten my writing juices flowing again. I've always been trying to work on my dialogue because that it certainly something I have trouble with. As I said in my last AN, I spent my spring break in Mississippi with Habitat for Humanity, and one of the chaperones really helped me with my writing. I'm not one to let people read my writing in front of me, and I'm actually really awkward about that. On here, I'm much more open about my writing simply because I can't see you and you can't see me. For all I know, some of my readers could take with train with me, or go to school with me, or make me my coffee at Starbucks. It's a lot different having someone you know telling you their opinion of your writing than to have all of you. Anyway, this chaperone really helped me with my writing and gave me a crap-ton of tips for writing, and one of the things he told me was that I should be attentive to the conversations going on around me. Listen to people on the street or on the train. Hear what they say and how they say it and make note of it. A lot of my dialogue comes out sounding forced, and no one talks like that unless they're in a really awkward situation.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed and I can't wait to hear what you all have to say!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	63. Chapter 62

**AN:** Hello again! Here's the next installment of the illustrious (jokes...) Here For You! These next couple of weeks are going to be** insanely** busy so savor this chapter and all its crappy glory because I don't know for sure when I'll be able to post again. Yay APUSH exam! And college graduations! And musicals... and dance recitals...and fifteen page research papers...and Latin Olympics...and school reunions...and school in general... and of course, my favorite subject, chemistry... yay.

**Dedication**: To Chris! Congrats! You're finally out of school! Now it's time to sleep in for the rest of your life (I wish!)!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

* * *

><p>Charlie remained upset about the whole "Harry and Ginny dating" thing for several weeks after the kiss. Despite numerous attempts from Amy to convince him otherwise, Charlie still firmly believed that Harry Potter, though a good kid, was defiling his young sister. He was taking this overprotective brother attitude to heart and nothing Amy said could deter him. She had to remind him several times that she too was a younger sister, and that her brothers had gone rather easy on him when he was in Chicago. She also made him promise not to tell his mother anything before the teens were ready for that level of Weasley interference and that he wouldn't go around following his sister and her new boyfriend to ensure that they weren't doing anything he deemed 'promiscuous.' By Charlie's definition, this meant looking at each other from a distance of less than five feet, holding hands, and smiling overzealously.<p>

It took all of Amy's strength and feminine tactics to distract him and even then, he was still blowing things way out of proportion.

"How can you expect Ginny to follow these 'rules' of yours if you don't even follow them?" Amy asked one day. "I mean, I certainly don't see you staying more than five feet away from me." She gestured to their position now of them sprawled out across the couch in her room to enforce her point.

"This is different," Charlie protested. "We're adults. Ginny's just a kid, and so is Harry for that matter."

"And yet they've both seen more than most witches and wizards," Amy said. "Maybe you should just let them be teenagers for once. They don't get to do that very often after all."

Of course, it wasn't only Ginny's new boyfriend that was riling Charlie up. Things in the Wizarding World were quickly going from bad to worse. It seemed as though every day the _Daily Prophet _had a new story on a witch or wizard who had been cursed or a Muggle family that had been slaughtered. The Ministry workers were getting antsy and this did little to placate the paranoid feelings of the Wizarding community. Amy was determined to seek out the bright side in all of this, but she had yet to discover one, and with Professor Dumbledore constantly away, the Hogwarts faculty was seeing the rise of anxiety within their students as well. Everyone knew that Hogwarts was the safest place in the world, but with all that had happened in the past several years, Amy could tell that some of the students were beginning to doubt this.

With everything that was happening in the outside world, along with the looming end-of-term exams in the not so far off distance, tensions were running high at Hogwarts, and it took everything Amy and the other professors had to maintain the school with the Headmaster gone.

Of course, this wasn't very easy when there were Death Eaters wreaking havoc in the halls of the castle in the middle of the night.

...

Amy was up late when she heard the screaming and crashing in the halls. It wasn't uncommon for her to be working so late, what with the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s upon the students. It was still a bit uncommon, though, for there to be screaming, especially so late at night.

The crashes jolted Amy from her half-asleep position over her desk and papers. As the night had gone on, her handwriting had become increasingly sloppier and she had been considering throwing the papers aside and forgetting about the whole ordeal. Sleep was much more tempting to her than finishing a stack of stress-written papers, but the crashes and smashes that echoed through the halls and into her room had her jolting awake.

There was no pause in between the time she jumped in her seat and when she was out the door of her office and racing down the hall towards the sound of the crashes and bangs. The portraits were in an uproar as she went running passed, the characters jumped from one frame to the next, spreading the word of what was happening. Amy, however, paid them no mind; instead, the witch focused on the fact that the crashes and cries were growing ever louder, and the castle was shaking beneath her feet. She had no idea what in the world was happening, but she did know one thing: this was not good. There was no way these noises were coming from mere students; something, or someone, worse was within the school, and Amy had a sinking suspicion of what it was, and she could feel the fear setting into her gut.

Of course, the bright flash of green which shot passed Amy as she turned the corner only reaffirmed her fears. She jumped back to avoid the curse, and only after it had bounced off a ball, causing stone to crumble to the floor, did Amy peek around the corner of the wall. The sight that met her filled her with dread while at the same time reaffirming her fears: Death Eaters were in the castle, and to make things worse, Dumbledore was not. The headmaster had sent a message to the staff earlier that even, informing them that he would once again be leaving the castle. He didn't specify for how long or to where he was going, but by now, the teachers and students had come to expect this of their headmaster, and it had come back to bite all of them.

From what she could see, at least a dozen Death Eaters were spread out through the hall, their wands aloft and curses ready on their lips. While this was terrifying all by itself, it was the sight of Amy's students dueling these masked fiends that struck Amy to the core. The majority of them appeared to be Gryffindors, but Amy thought that she spied a Ravenclaw or two amongst the crowd as well. What they were doing in the halls when they should have been locked away in their common rooms, safe from the wrath of the Death Eaters, Amy did not know, but she did not have time to dwell on this as she was quickly spotted by one of the masked wizards, who turned his attention onto her.

Her concerns for the safety of her students were pushed aside as Amy focused on the predator before her. There was a moment of peaceful interlude between the two, and then they locked eyes and began to duel.

Everything grew incredibly hazy, and Amy blocked out the happenings around her, forcing herself to focus on the fact that she was dueling an incredibly Dark Wizard and a single mistake on her part could result in the loss of her own life and the lives of many others. It was this fact that kept Amy from backing down; she was not merciful for she knew that her opponent would not be either. He was out to kill, and while she didn't know whether she would ever be capable of achieving the same, she sure as hell wasn't going to back out or ease up on her cascade of curses.

She could faintly hear the sounds of the other duels happening around her, and she could see the bright colors of the spells that were bouncing around the corridor in her side view. For a moment, Amy thought she saw the trademark bright orange hair of a Weasley, but she forced this thought away as her Death Eater charged towards her, determined to defeat her. Amy, however, was not having any of this. She whipped her wand around, creating a slashing motion over the wizard chest and down towards his hip, and the wizard was thrown to the ground, where his head collided with the stone floor and he fell limp.

Amy was allowed but a moment to breathe before she was forced back into the flurry of battle, although this time she was not alone. From all around her, a swarm of new witches and wizards joined the battle, their wands drawn as they too began to defend the castle.

The Order had arrived, and with them, they brought a new hope and a new energy to the fight.

Students, teachers, and adults alike threw themselves back into the battle, curses and hexes spilling from their lips faster and with greater vengeance, all of them determined to defend the castle from the evil force of the Death Eaters. Despite the fact that they were quickly becoming outnumbered, the Death Eaters showed no fear as they turned to face their opponents with more force and they unleashed a wave of curses and hexes upon the Hogwarts' defenders. Around her, Amy saw those around her fall in their duels, but whether or not they were on her side or not, she did not know. It was all she could do to focus her attention on the duel at hand; it would not bode well for anyone if she became distracted. She needed to focus and for a moment, she could almost hear Mad-Eye yelling in her ear about constant vigilance.

They were slowly managing to push the Death Eaters further and further back. They were up against the stairs, but for some reason they were unable to move back any further. Something was blocking the staircase, and the defenders of the castle were unable to penetrate these blockades. Several Death Eaters managed to slip past their defense and up the stairs. They were chased but forced back by the remaining Dark Wizards.

In her peripheral, Amy again saw the flash of Weasley hair, and she presumed that Charlie must have arrived with the new defense. She knew that the flash of red-orange did not belong to either Ginny or Ron because she could see Ron fighting against a Death Eater of his own, several yards in front of her, and Ginny was just to Amy's left. For two under-aged students, the two fought incredibly well, and every curse and hex that was sent their way missed them by mere inches – Amy wondered for a moment if it was the luck of the Irish kicking in.

The noise in the hall was increasing, the shouts growing louder and the lights of the curses growing brighter. One of the Death Eaters was shooting off jinxes, not directing them at anyone in particular, but allowing it them to bounce off the walls and in every direction. Everything seemed to be building up to a crescendo, although what was to come at the climax, Amy did not know. It was all moving so fast; the spells, the movements, the crumbling of the walls around them. The roaring of spells and curses continued to echo throughout the hall, as everyone fought for their lives. It was becoming too much for Amy and the others, and the whole lot of them could barely see who was good and who was bad.

There was only so much Amy could do as she continued to duel against the same Dark Wizard, who seemed determined to strike the witch down where she stood. Time after time, their spells shot past each other, crashing into the walls and forcing more rubble and dust to fall around them. Everyone was covered in dust, and it was almost impossible to distinguish who was who.

The shouting and screaming continued, growing incredibly loud, almost deafening. The spells moved faster, the walls caved in closer to them, and then…

There was a moment of silence and a split second where there was no motion but the tumble of another wall and the settling of dust around them, where the only heard one thing:

"It's over! Time to go!"

And then the battle resumed, although this time the Death Eaters were began to back away. They were no longer focusing to kill, but attempting to distract or immobilize their opponents so that they could escape. The others, however, were not having this. They, of course, did not want to fight, but they knew they couldn't simply stop and allow these Dark Wizards to get away, not after they had stormed the castle, blasting through their numbers and cursing anything and everything that moved.

No, there was no way they were getting away that easy, at least not without a fight. And so fight they did. Amy and the others continued to push their way closer to their opponents, wands slashing through the air and spells bouncing off of the floor and the walls. Amy could feel the rage building up underneath her skin, and she suspected the others felt it as well. Did the Death Eaters really think that they would be allowed to invade their home, attack their families, and instill fear within the entire Wizarding World without consequence? Did they really think they could get away with it all without the slightest hint of retaliation? Without having to face retribution? If so, they were more foolish and ignorant than anyone could have ever perceived. Nescience only went so far, and sooner or later, they would have to pay for what they had done to each and every one of their victims. Amy hoped that day would come quickly; there was quite a bit that she wanted justice for, and she would be damned if she didn't receive it.

Just as she had raised her wand to cast another spell at her opponent, someone crashed into her shoulder, sending the witch flying to the ground. Her head cracked against the stone floor, and she groaned, her wand slipping from her hand and rolling into the dust. There were several moments of terrible, head-splitting pain during which Amy pressed a hand to her head and groaned. She laid there in the dust and debris before forcing herself to look up and face, what she believed to be, certain death.

Yet, instead of looking up to find the face of a victorious Death Eater leering down at her, Amy saw only the back of her opponent as he raced down the hall, following in the footsteps of his accomplices. It took her a second to recognize what had just happened before she also realized that the shouts and screams of spells from the battle had died away, leaving only the echoes of long forgotten hexes ringing in her ears. Gingerly, Amy forced herself to roll over onto her side and push herself into a sitting position. The pounding in her head only increased as she did this, but Amy forced herself to ignore the sharp, stinging pain that burned through her brain and focus on the scene before her.

The walls of the once great hall were crumbled around her, revealing the outside world to everyone. Amy took a moment to revel in the complete destruction of the hall compared to the night sky overhead, where several stars could be seen, poking through the clouds. How was it possible for their home, for Hogwarts, to be ruined while the world outside their walls remained right as day? Amy could not see any logic behind this, although that may have also been because her head continued to pound and ache tremendously.

Carefully, Amy forced herself to push her body from off the ground. She wobbled on her feet for a moment, vertigo hitting her in full force. It took her several minutes of standing complete still, with her hands pressed to her head for the dizziness to pass, and even then, her head continued to ache something terrible.

"Professor?" a voice asked tentatively, drawing Amy's thoughts away from the pounding in her head. The witch looked up immediately, her eyes seeking out the face of the speaker. In the darkness and shadows of the hall, she was able to identify a petite silhouette with an enraged mane of hair.

"Hermione," Amy gasped, breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of the seemingly unharmed student. "Thank Merlin, you're alright." She stepped forward and grasped the younger witch by the arms, surveying her form eagerly. "You are okay, right?"

The teen nodded, giving the teacher a faint smile. "I'm fine," she assured her. She eyed Amy's form warily, taking notice of the cut and bruise on Amy's forehead from her fall to the floor. "Are you alright Professor? You look a bit pale."

Amy waved the witch's concerns off. "I don't matter," she said dismissively. "Cuts and bruises is all, nothing life threatening, I assure you." Again, Amy surveyed the teen's form, noting that for whatever reason, Hermione appeared to be without even one single scratch or bruise. While this was curious to say the least, Amy found that she did not care in the slightest. All she could find herself able to care about was the fact that Hermione was unharmed, and in a moment of overabundant joy and relief, Amy pulled the teen into her arms, squeezing her tight.

Hermione hesitated for a moment, before she wrapped her arms around Amy as well, gripping her tightly. Amy felt the witch tremble for a moment, and this only made Amy grip Hermione harder in an attempt to console and support the witch.

The feeling of another portion of the wall crumbled to the wall besides them and the two pulled apart, eyeing the walls around them warily. Behind them, Alex saw teachers and other members of the Order scurrying about, trying to make the most of a terrible situation. She could hear McGonagall ordering students and adults alike around as they tried to clear the hall and help those who were injured.

"I want everyone to head to the infirmary immediately," McGonagall exclaimed. She was standing in the middle of the hall, covered from head to toe in dust while blood trickled down her cheek from a rather deep looking cut. Despite her frazzled look, however, the older witch appeared oddly calm, especially for someone who had just been involved in a battle against Dark wizards.

"I don't care if you're hurt or not," she was saying. "I want you all to go to the Hospital Wing and have Madam Pomfrey examine you. No arguments." As she said this, she shot a look towards her Gryffindor students, all of whom, to Amy's relief, appeared to be unscathed except for Neville who was propped up against the wall, ghastly pale and clutching his stomach in evident pain.

"Weasley," McGonagall continued, turning to find Ron standing amongst the rubble. The red-haired teen looked up expectantly, his shoulders hunched awkwardly. "Kindly help Longbottom to the Infirmary." Ron looked towards his peer, who was still gripping his stomach and groaning quietly, before nodding at his professor. He quickly made his way over to Neville and helped him off the wall. Together the two boys made their way down the hall, stumbling over rubble and broken bits of the wall. McGonagall turned now to Amy and Hermione.

"You need to go to the Infirmary as well, Granger," McGonagall ordered. She turned then to Luna, who was off in her own little corner, apparently admiring the broken walls of the corridor. "You as well, Lovegood." Luna turned with a dazed expression before smiling brightly and making her way over the piles of stone. Hermione turned to Amy once more, smiling faintly at the Professor, who responded by squeezing her arm gently, before the teen turned and followed in the footsteps of her retreating peers.

All who remained in the corridor now were teachers and members of the Order. They all stood there for a moment, taking in their broken surroundings. All of them, except for Amy of course, had attended Hogwarts at one point in time. The castle had been their home for seven years and they had walked through this hallway every single day, and now… now it was completely destroyed, crumbling at the walls. For some of them, this was the start of the war and the first time that they had seen the consequences of the war firsthand.

"What are we to do?" Amy asked quietly. Those in the room turned towards her, their faces void of any emotion. She looked from face to face – McGonagall to Tonks to Remus and so on – searching for any semblance of an answer. "How are we supposed to protect the entire world if we can't even protect our own castle?" No one said anything, and Amy suspected it was because they were all beginning to wonder the same thing.

How were the expected to save the world? There may have been more people on their side, but a victory wasn't decided by mere numbers. It took so much more than that, and with what they had all seen tonight, Amy began to doubt that they really did have what it took to prevail. Silence reigned over them, broken only by the muttering of the portraits around them and the sound of the wind rushing through the holes in the walls.

"You should all go to the Infirmary as well," McGonagall said quietly. "But first we need to straighten up the Great Hall. It will do us no good to have the entire school tramping through rubble and broken glass." The others nodded distractedly and got to work, drawing their wands from their sleeves as they began to work their way across the hall.

It was as Amy was kneeling down to sweep up the house points which had spilled from their containers when a shout rang out through the hall. Immediately, everyone stood to attention, anticipating for a moment the return of their opponents, but they saw no one approaching from either end. Instead, the shout had come from the corner of the room where Tonks was kneeling over a large pile of rubble.

"Come help me!" Tonks cried, struggling to pull the rubble away from the ground. Everyone stood in their spots for a moment, not entirely sure what was happening. They were pulled from these thoughts, however, when Tonks yelled again. "There's someone stuck under here!"

In a flash, the group was at her side, some kneeling besides her as they began to pull away the rocks with their bare hand while the rest used their wands to Levitate the rubble away. Amy stood at the back of the group, focusing her attention on Levitating the larger pieces of stone away from the group.

In no time, the group of witches and wizards had managed to remove enough of the stone and debris to reveal the broken form of one of their own beneath the rubble. As Amy charmed the last large piece of stone away, she looked back at the figure.

Blood was splattered across the floor around the figure, and the puddle was growing larger by the second. The body was covered in dust like the rest of them, and though the blood had mixed into their hair, Amy was able to identify the bright red coloring beneath the dark blood, a coloring that was all too familiar to her and the others that had gathered around.

The witch's stomach clenched together tightly and she gasped, her wand falling to her side as the stone crashed to the floor several feet away from the group. Panic and dread built up within the witch, and her eyes filled with tears as she surveyed the broken form of the Weasley before them. Those gathered around the figure glanced back at the witch; worry and concern were etched into their faces as Amy slowly pushed herself to the front of the group, kneeling down besides Tonks.

Amy knew that she had seen this hair earlier when the rest of the Order had arrived, but she had completely forgotten in the midst of the war. She sat back on her heels in shock, not totally comprehending anything more than that the form before her was that of her boyfriend Charlie, who was losing more and more blood by the second. Amy knew that they had to move him; that they had to get him up to the infirmary as quickly as they could if they wanted to even attempt saving his life, but she could not force herself to move. Here was the love of her life, sprawled across the floor as blood oozed from his body, staining the stone beneath him, but what could she really do? She may have been a witch, but that didn't mean she could stop death; no one could. And that's what this was, wasn't it? He was dying.

Charlie Weasley was dying and there was nothing she could do to save him.

Even if they did get him to Madam Pomfrey, who was to say that she would be able to save him? He had lost so much blood already that there probably nothing they could do and nothing she could say to change this. She was going to have to sit back and watch the love of her life die, and there would be nothing she could do.

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Amy saw the future she had envisioned for the two of them after the war. The stolen kisses and brief moments of intimacy that they would be allotted in the presence of their families, the spring time wedding, and soon enough, the auburn haired babies with infectious giggles and smiles that would take the world's breath away. It all could have been theirs, it _should_ have been theirs, and now…

Sobs built up within Amy's chest and she did her best to choke them down. She couldn't break down, not here, not in front of everyone. She gripped her thighs tightly, digging her nails into the fabric of her skirt to keep herself from crying out in agony and despair.

As these thoughts had been racing through her mind, the others had moved around her, and without her knowledge had begun to move the body away. Once they had cleared it from the corner, they turned the figure onto his back so that they could get a better picture of what was happening. Amy could hear their murmurings behind her, but she paid them no mind, focusing instead on the fact that her Charlie was dying…

"Amy," a voice said quietly. A hand fell onto her shoulder. "Amy, look at me." The witch did not move but continued to stare at the puddle of dark, red blood before her. She heard a faint sigh before she found herself being forced to stand and turn. Tonks was standing before her with a grim look on her face. She gripped Amy's arms tightly and talked in a low voice. Amy, however, heard little of what she had to say as her words slipped in one ear and out the other.

"It's alright, Amy. Everything's going to be fine, I –"

Amy remembered how just days before the only worry in Amy and Charlie's life had been Ginny's blossoming relationship with Harry.

"Remus says that he'll be fine, that Greyback hadn't turned so-"

She remembered the feel of his arms wrapped around her as they sprawled out on the couch in her room, and he whispered jokes and teases in her ear, hugging her tight as she laughed brightly.

"Bill's a strong guy, he won't go down without a fight and-"

Then there was the feeling of his lips against hers and the unbelievable joy it brought her, as each one reminded her just how ardently she loved-

Wait.

Bill?

_Bill?_

Amy's head shot up and she looked over Tonks' shoulder towards the group of witches and wizards who were slowly leading the body out of the hall and towards the staircase to the Infirmary. They had long since turned the figure so that they were no longer face down and they had cleared away some of the blood from his face to reveal long gashes across his cheeks. For a moment, all Amy saw again was the red Weasley hair and freckles, but she forced herself to look closer, and when she did, Amy realized that though the hair color and freckles were identical to that of Charlie's, the person before her was much lankier and his hair was much longer than that of her boyfriend's.

This wasn't Charlie at all. She had been completely wrong. Charlie hadn't been the Weasley to join the fight midway through; it was Bill, and for a second, relief flooded Amy's body as she realized that it wasn't Charlie who was hurt and bleeding but his older brother.

Of course, that moment was pushed aside in a heartbeat, and guilt built up inside of her. While it may not have been her boyfriend who was torn apart and bleeding, that didn't give her the right to be relieved and pleased. Bill was still a person and more importantly, he was Charlie's only older brother. What kind of person was she for being happy that it was Bill who was hurt? Bill was her friend and she had even come to think of him as family in the last several months. He had been so concerned for her when she was kidnapped, and he had done everything he could to help Charlie and the others find her before it was too late, and here she was, pleased that he was hurt!

Tonks seemed to notice this war that brewing in Amy over whether or not she should be pleased and the Metamorphagus trailed off, unsure of what she was saying. Minutes earlier, Amy had appeared as though she was ready to start crying and now she seemed to be angry with herself as she watched the others remove Bill and carry him up to the Infirmary.

"Amy," Tonks said gently, drawing Amy from her warring thoughts. "Are you alright?"

The professor looked blankly at her friend, unsure as to whether or not she should voice her thoughts. Was she okay? Did it make sense for her to be okay after she thought the love of her life had been killed only to find out that it was her boyfriend's brother who was mortally wounded? Did that make her alright?

Amy shook her head.

"I thought," she started softly. "I thought it was…" She trailed off, watching the others exit the hall, following closely behind those who were carrying Bill. Tonks turned to watch them depart as well, and something seemed to click within her. Perhaps it was the tremble in Amy's voice, or the utter look of despair in her glistening eyes. Whatever it was, it struck Tonks to the core and she nodded once in realization.

"You thought it was Charlie," she said quietly. Amy's jaw trembled at her words. There was a moment of silence between the witches before Amy gasped and dropped her head into her hands, sobs wracking her body.

Tonks quickly stepped forward to wrap her arms around the witch, and Amy moved to cry into Tonks' shoulder, similarly to the way the Metamorphagus had cried into the teacher's shoulder weeks ago.

"Amy," Tonks cooed softly. "Amy, everything's fine. It wasn't Charlie, and Pomfrey's going to fix Bill up in a jiffy. He's going to be fine. Charlie's fine. You're going to be fine. Everything is okay."

Amy shook her head in response and pulled herself from Tonks' embrace.

"I was relieved!" she gasped. "Relieved when I realized it wasn't Charlie. What kind of person is relieved to find out that their boyfriend's brother was hurt?" She didn't give Tonks a time to respond. "A terrible person, that's who!" More tears ran down Amy's face, but she did nothing to get rid of them; this was her punishment. This was what she got for being relieved.

"No, no," Tonks' protested quietly, gripping Amy's arms tightly as she tried to get her point across. "You're not a terrible person, Amy, and you never could be!" Amy laughed bitterly, but Tonks continued on as though she had not been interrupted. "Being relieved that Charlie wasn't hurt doesn't make you a bad person! It just goes to show that you're a good person because you're so concerned and worried about the welfare of those you love! How could that possibly make you a bad person?"

"But Bill-"

"Bill knew what he was doing when he came here tonight," Tonks broke in bluntly. "He knew the risks and he accepted them because he knew it was the right thing to do. There was nothing you could have done to stop him or save him, not with everything else that was going on. Yes, it's unfortunate that he was hurt, but you are not a terrible person for caring for the ones you love. Got it?"

There was a silent pause before Amy nodded bleakly.

"Good," Tonks said briskly. "Glad we cleared that up. Now come on." She looped her arm through Amy's. "Let's get you up to the Hospital Wing. I don't like the look of that cut on your forehead."

The professor nodded and allowed her friend to lead her down the still dusty hall and up the stairs to the Infirmary. They could always come back to clean up the hall later. For now, though, it was best for them to focus on getting themselves cleaned up and healed. They would be no use to anyone injured.

…..

The infirmary was silent upon the witches' entrance, and those who were there looked up at their arrival. Those who were unhurt were clustered in a group at the front of the room, standing their silently and taking solace in the others' presence. Tonks squeezed Amy's arm once more before going to join the group in the corner, and Amy took this moment to survey the room. She noted Neville Longbottom's sleeping form several beds from the front of the hall, and a few beds further up was Bill's bed. Amy's heart clenched tightly once more as she caught sight of the Weasley hair in between Madam Pomfrey's flustered movements around his bed as she worked her magic.

McGonagall also stood near Bill's bed, a grim expression on her face, and when she heard the door to the Infirmary close, she turned to look at Amy. She surveyed Amy's dusty form and the tear tracks through the dust on her cheeks before nodding once and pointing to the first bed.

"Poppy will be with you in a moment," she said. "Sit."

Amy did nothing to resist the Deputy Headmistress's orders, and she slowly made her way to the bed. She didn't lie down on the stiff mattress, but she chose instead to sit on the very edge with her back turned to Bill. Amy didn't think she could stand to sit and watch Pomfrey attempt to heal the Weasley, and the sight of the blood and Weasley red hair only made Amy think of Charlie lying dead somewhere.

So instead, Amy turned so that she was facing the doors to the Hospital Wing, and she stared blankly at the wall beside it, trying to push all her thoughts from her mind. Her head still ached and throbbed from when she had hit it against the stone floor. She could hear the dull whispers of those in the corner, but she paid them no mind. She instead focused on the rhythmic throb in her head as she forced herself to focus on the wall in front of her, counting the grey stones to keep her mind off of what was happening behind her.

One, two, three, four…

Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen…

Thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six…

Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine…

The door to the infirmary was pushed open suddenly, and all those in the room turned to see who had entered. Amy's forced herself to draw her attention away from her counting and onto the new arrival, and her heart leapt as she recognized the Weasley red hair once more, and this time, it was Charlie.

The wizard stood panting in the doorway as though he had sprinted all the way from London to Hogwarts. His face was red and his chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath. No one said anything as his bright blue eyes surveyed the room, frantically searching the numerous beds, until they finally settled on Amy who was sitting to his right. A look of relief passed over Charlie's face, and he crossed the room in a few strides, ignoring everyone else in the room and taking no notice of his youngest brother, as he swept Amy up into his arms, pulling her tightly to his chest.

"Thank Merlin," he breathed against her ear. "When I got the message, I thought-" He broke off and Amy felt him tremble slightly. "I'm so glad you're alright." He held her for a moment longer before pulling back so that he could look her over. His eyes were immediately drawn to the cut and bruise that had spread across her forehead, and he raised a hand to gently run a finger over the gash. Amy flinched at the sting, and he pulled his hand back immediately.

"You are okay, right?" he asked. He again looked her over, searching for any more injuries that may have been hiding from him. "You're not hurt anywhere else?"

Amy shook her head slowly. "I'm fine," she said softly. She tried to offer up a reassuring smile, but it came out as more of a grimace, which did nothing to soothe the wizard's concerns. He could tell that something was bothering her; despite her attempt to appear nonchalant and unfazed, he could see the despair and pain residing in her eyes. She was trembling slightly and biting her lip; something had unnerved the witch, and Charlie felt concern brew up inside of him.

"Amy," Charlie said softly. He gripped her upper arms, his fingers running slow, soothing circles over her skin. "What is it? What's wrong?"

The witch's jaw trembled and she opened her mouth to respond, but her voice died within her throat. She could feel tears welling up within her, causing her throat to constrict, and she knew she wouldn't be able to tell Charlie what had happened to his brother. Instead, she turned her head to the side, looking over her shoulder to the prone form several beds down from her. Charlie followed her look, his gaze settling on the injured figure feet away from him.

Amy felt him freeze as he took in the sight before him of his mangled older brother, and she felt her heart break at the look of confusion and despair that darkened his face. Slowly, he pulled himself from her embrace and made his way around the bed. Amy made no movement so as to follow him. Instead, she hunched her shoulders and fell into herself, not wanting to see, what was likely to be, tearful moment. She could hear murmuring behind her as Charlie was informed of what had happened, and then there was a shuffling and swish of a cloak through the room.

A flash of white fabric in the corner of her eye caused Amy to turn slightly. Madam Pomfrey appeared at Amy's side with a flask, several pieces of gauze, and a tentative smile.

"Alright Professor Wyman," the Healer began, with a tense, yet bright, voice. "Let's get you cleaned up a bit."

She immediately set to work healing the gash on Amy's forehead. The professor sat there, patiently for what was probably the first time ever, as she waited for the Healer to finish. Whatever charm she was using generated a stinging sensation, and Amy flinched. Madam Pomfrey smiled understandingly as she continued to clean the edges of the cut.

"I know it stings," the Healer said softly. "But you'll feel so much better after I'm done." Amy nodded robotically, doing her best to ignore the pain.

The two witches sat in silence for several minutes as Madam Pomfrey focused her attention to the rest of Amy's body, ensuring that there were no other injuries that needed tending to. Behind her, Amy could hear Charlie talking in low voices with Professor McGonagall. The witch was certain they were talking about Bill but she could not will herself to turn around. Instead, she watched Madam Pomfrey's methodical movements, taking solace in the fact that her process was so incredibly similar to the one used in the Muggle world.

"Is he going to be okay?" Amy asked suddenly, breaking the quiet that had fallen around the two. Poppy looked up from Amy's arm where she had been several minor cuts. She raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Is Bill going to be okay?"

Madam Pomfrey's eyes softened at the desperate look in Amy's eyes and gave the witch a tentative smile.

"We can certainly hope," she said softly. "He was fortunate that tonight was not a full moon and that Greyback had not turned."

"Wait," Amy broke in. "Greyback? As in Fenrir Greyback the Werewolf?" Pomfrey looked surprised.

"Yes," she said as she began to pack up her equipment. "He's the one that did, well, _that_ to Mr. Weasley." Pomfrey looked up as she said this and she was met with a look of utter horror and despair that had crossed Amy's face. "But like I said," Pomfrey started quickly. "He's fortunate, he really is. Things could have been much worse for him. We're still not sure what side effects he's going to have, but at least he's alive. All we can do now is hope that everything turns out for the best." She patted Amy consolingly on the arm before leaving the witch to her thoughts.

However, Amy was not left alone for long. Several minutes after Madam Pomfrey had left her, Amy heard shuffling behind her and then a warm presence besides her. A small turn of the head informed Amy that it was Charlie who was seated next to her, and the look on his face caused her heart to ache.

He looked completely and utterly lost, as though he couldn't understand what he had seen or what had occurred. He looked like a little boy who had lost his mother and feared she was gone forever.

"Charlie?" Amy asked quietly. The wizard didn't move. "Charlie," she repeated, reaching out to place a gentle, soothing hand on his shoulder. He jumped slightly, turning to look at Amy as though this was the first time he had even realized she was here.

"Are you alright?"

It was such a ridiculous question to ask, and since this was probably the hundredth time it had been asked in the span of too short a time, it had begun to lose its meaning. It now sounded shallow and pathetic, no matter how much genuine concern was placed behind it.

He didn't respond instantaneously, but after several moments he gave a jerky movement, although whether it was a nod or not, Amy couldn't tell. Rather than asking him again, Amy decided instead to move over several inches until she was just next to the wizard. She offered him a tentative smile before wrapping an arm around his torso and resting her head on his shoulder.

"Don't worry," she murmured. "You will be." She shut her eyes and prayed she was right.

…..

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Look at that. 7, 232 words for the chapter. Pretty darn impressive if I do say so myself. Also, big shout-out to my reviewers and my readers in general! Thank you so much for all of your support and words of wisdom. I really do appreciate any feedback at all and I'm glad you all seem to really enjoy reading my story. It certainly makes me feel better when I'm having a bad day and I get a review from one of my lovely, phenomenal, stupendous, supermegafoxyawesomehot readers.

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	64. Chapter 63

**AN**: Well, hello hello! And welcome back to _Here For You_, my lovely readers! Sorry for the wait but like I said in my last AN, things have been pretty hectic around here. My big brother graduated from college (woot woot! So proud) and my other brother is home from college. I have taken and defeated(?) the dreaded AP U.S. History exam and I've slayed the terrible, excruciating American Lit essay (35 pages. I'm not exaggerating either. 35 pages). So... school's basically over for me... except for the fact that I still have to go to school for the next month (yay CPS!)... also I still have chemistry... but who needs chemistry when you've got fanfiction?... Do you think I could get away with that as an excuse not to do the chem lab?

Anyway, it's lovely to be back, and I promise (lies) to update more. I have more time now to dedicate to this story which means... more updates (not really. I'm lazy, but we can pretend). So here's the next chapter, and I hope you enjoy. BTDubs this is also the longest chapter. The chapter itself is almost 10000 words. Pretty darn impressive if I do say so myself.

**Dedication:** To V-Squared! Thank you for getting us through these last nine months of history-hell. I may have groaned and complained the entire way, but it is/was(?) my favorite class.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing you recognize.

* * *

><p>The rest of those who had fought in the battle arrived to the infirmary soon after that. Those who were already in the Hospital Wing had fallen into silence, taking solace in the fact that the others were there and that, for the most part, they were all okay. Professor McGonagall had left them earlier to go and make sure that the rest of the students had returned to their dorms. No one knew for sure how it was the Death Eaters had gotten into the school in the first place, and they certainly weren't going to be taken any more chances that night.<p>

Other than the sound of the wind blowing through the trees outside and the odd howl and scream from the Forbidden Forest, there was no sound throughout the school as everyone took stock over what had occurred. Bill was marred, the castle was falling apart, and Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen. Things weren't boding well for the Hogwarts family but there was little anyone could do. After all, they were only human. They may have powers and magic but that didn't mean they could defend the entire world and save themselves at the same time. They weren't strong enough, especially now that they had lost so much.

Amy was still resting against Charlie's shoulder when the doors to the infirmary opened once more. The squeak of the hinges drew the attention of all of those in the room, and Harry and Ginny appeared in the open doorway. Next to her, Amy felt Charlie sit up straight at the appearance of his sister and she sat up too so that he could go to greet Ginny. Hermione seemed to have the same idea, because she left the others in her little group to go and hug Harry. Shakily, Amy got to her feet, stopping for a moment to take in the tender scene of the brothers and sisters – after all, Hermione and Harry were practically siblings – before turning to join the others in the ward who had gathered around Bill's bed. They all were rather pale, and their expressions were grave. Amy gave them a tight smile before finding a place to stand around Bill's bed.

The eldest Weasley son was unconscious, and his once handsome face was strewn with claw marks which marred his face. A sickly green ointment was smeared across his skin, and Madam Pomfrey was gently applying the cream to each of his wounds.

Behind them, Amy heard the others approach the bed, shuffling quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the hospital wing. A sudden burst of warmth to her right told Amy that Charlie had joined them and she slipped a hand down to grasp his tightly. Charlie responded with a slight squeeze but he did not say anything, preferring to stare stonily at his older brother.

Harry was the first to break the silence, although his voice was just above a whisper and spoken in a hush. He could feel the fragility of the room, and he didn't want to be the one to shatter whatever stability remained.

"Can't you fix them with a charm or something?" he asked. His eyes never left the scarred figure of one Bill Weasley, but everyone knew that the question was being directed towards the school Healer. More importantly, however, this was one question which everyone wanted to hear the answer to. Bill was their colleague, their friend, their brother. They wanted nothing more than for him to be alright and they would do anything and give everything if what they had to offer would help him.

Madam Pomfrey shattered this hope however.

"No charm will work on these," she said quietly. Her voice trembled a bit, but she stayed focused on her work. "I've tried everything I know, but there is not cure for werewolf bites."

"But he wasn't bitten at the full moon," Ron broke in quietly. His voice was dull as he stared down at his eldest brother. He looked up with desperate blue eyes. "Greyback hadn't transformed, so surely Bill won't be a – a real - ?"

In the second that he said those words, the entire group seemed to turn towards Remus, desperate to hear any words of wisdom or hope from him. Remus noticed their stares and cleared his throat.

"No, I don't think that Bill will be a true werewolf," Remus appeased, "but that does not mean that there won't be some contamination. Those are cursed wounds." Remus gestured vaguely to the deep scratches across Bill's face. "They are unlikely ever to heal full and – " Remus paused to swallow thickly. "And Bill might have some wolfish characteristics from now on."

There was an awkward moment of silence as the group took this in. Wolfish characteristics? What in the world did that mean? Did this mean that the Bill they knew would be gone forever or did it simply mean he'd be different?

"Dumbledore might know something that'd work," Ron said suddenly. He looked frantically between his brother and the others. "Where is he?" the teen demanded. "Bill fought those maniacs on Dumbledore's orders, Dumbledore owes him, he can't leave him in this state – "

"Ron," Ginny broke in quietly. "Dumbledore's dead."

Amy felt her heart stop for a moment and her head shot up.

_What?_

Everyone in the room looked up in shock, not fully comprehending what the girl had just said. They stared at the young woman in disbelief and hesitation. No one wanted to believe it, no one could believe it. She was kidding, wasn't she? Some poor, terrible attempt to lighten the mood? She was obviously trying to attempt to make a crude joke like the Twins that had to be it, right?

A single look at Ginny's sorrowful eyes shot down all these thoughts. She was nothing but genuine in her words, and she was just as distraught as the rest of them. Amy exhaled loudly, gasping a bit. Charlie's grip on her hand grew tighter, almost crushing as he tried to pass on some sort of consolation to her, and Amy's throat tightened as no one said a word.

Remus was the first to break through the doleful silence.

"No!" the man cried out. His voice was filled with disbelief and grief. Amy shut her eyes at the terrible sound, and she felt tears well up behind her eyelids. She pressed a hand to her mouth to stop herself from crying, and Charlie released her hand so that he could instead wrap his arm around her waist, pulling her to his side in comfort. She turned her face into his shoulder, pressing against his warmth as she tried to block her tears.

Dumbledore? Dead? It just didn't seem possible to any of them. It didn't make sense. He was Dumbledore, the greatest wizard to ever live! Nothing could touch him, nothing could harm him, and it just didn't make sense. He always knew the answer, he never made a mistake. It was unlike him to ever slip-up, especially when his life and the lives of so many others were at stake, and now he was dead?

Amy could still remember walking into Hogwarts for the first time and having Dumbledore sneak up on her in the Great Hall. He seemed to know everything about her before she even knew who he was, and he never doubted for a moment that she was capable of great things. He put his trust in her, he put the safety of his students in her hands, and he believed that she could go and do anything.

And now he was gone.

It didn't seem real. It _couldn't _be real. He couldn't be gone. Not now, not when they needed him most. He was supposed to be there! To make some moderately humorous quip and tell them all that it would be okay and that they were only as strong as they were united or something encouraging and enlightening like that. He couldn't be dead. He just couldn't be.

"How did he die?" Tonks whispered suddenly. Amy opened her eyes to peer at her friend. The Metamorphagus' face was pale and her hair was a mess of brown, hanging limply around her face. "How did it happen?"

"Snape killed him," Harry answered plainly. Amy and the others turned sharply to look at him, but he did not meet their eyes. Instead, he was glaring at the stone floor, evidently trying to retain his rage and grief. "I was there, I saw it. We arrived back on the Astronomy Tower because that's where the Mark was." Harry paused and looked up here, his bright green eyes void of emotion. He was forcing himself to push away his feelings. He couldn't break down, not here, not now.

"…Dumbledore was ill, he was weak, but I think he realized it was a trap when we heard footsteps running up the stairs. He immobilized me, I couldn't do anything, I was under the Invisibility Cloak – and then Malfoy came through the door and disarmed him." Harry stopped again as his listeners' reacted, gasping and horrorstruck. He waited for a moment before continuing, his voice low and raspy. "More Death Eaters arrived – and then Snape –" the teen took a deep breath, "- and Snape did it. The _Avada Kedavra_."

The rest of Harry's words died in his throat, rasping out unintelligibly. Madam Pomfrey was the first to react, breaking out into tears and sobs, while Amy burrowed her face into Charlie's shoulder, trying to push away her thoughts. Again and again, as though on repeat, the image of Albus Dumbledore pressed against the banister of the Astronomy Tower, wandless and defenseless, as the man he trusted – someone he swore up and down was on their side – stalked him and murdered him without a second thought.

Ginny's voice suddenly broke through the sobs and cries of the room. "Shh! Listen!" she ordered. The room immediately fell silent as the occupants listened to the teen. An eerie lament reached their ears from the window, and the group turned to look as a gorgeous, golden bird rose from the Forbidden Forest and flew across the bright moon. Everyone was struck by the beautiful, albeit mournful, song of the bird. It's bemoan was heard across the grounds, recapitulating the feelings of everyone in the castle as they mourned the loss of their great and powerful leader.

"This isn't real," Amy murmured desperately. "This can't be real." Charlie was the only one who heard the witch's sorrowful whispers, and he tightened his grip on her, attempting to prevent the onslaught of tears that were threatening to burst from within him too. Everything had been going so right. Everyone had finally been happy, and in an instant that was gone. He had almost lost Amy, he could lose his brother, and everyone had lost Dumbledore. It certainly didn't feel real, so Charlie clung tightly to Amy, forcing himself to remember that she was real and she was with him right then and there. Above all else, she was there.

The mournful song and silence of the room was broken as McGonagall re-entered the ward. Though she was scraped and bruised, the witch showed fierce determination and surprising calmness. She was broken and torn and yet she still managed to exude complete and utter calmness and composure. Yet behind that composed façade, Amy could see the hurt and despair residing in the witch. She may have appeared calm, but Amy was sure that on the inside, Minerva McGonagall was just a big a mess as they were, if not more. After all, Dumbledore was her closest confidant and arguably her best friend.

"Molly and Arthur are on their way," she announced. She spared a brief glance at the prone form of her former student before turning to face Harry, who met his teacher's eye with surprising strength. "Harry, what happened? According to Hagrid you were with Professor Dumbledore when he – when it happened. He says Professor Snape was involved in some – "

"Snape killed Dumbledore," Harry interrupted briskly, taking no time to sugar coat this information. His words were so cold, so brash that they knocked McGonagall off her feet and into a chair, supplied by Madam Pomfrey who had finally managed to stifle her sobs.

"Snape," McGonagall uttered breathlessly. She shook her head in disbelief, her eyes staring blankly ahead of her. "We all wondered…but he trusted…always…_Snape_…I can't believe it…"

Lupin snorted harshly. "Snape was a highly accomplished Occlumens," he reminded them. "We always knew that."

"But Dumbledore swore he was on our side!" Tonks hissed. "I always thought Dumbledore most know something about Snape that we didn't…" She trailed off.

"He always hinted that he had an ironclad reason for trusting Snape," McGonagall added, wiping at her weeping eyes. "I mean…with Snape's history…of course people were bound to wonder…but Dumbledore told me explicitly that Snape's repentance was absolutely genuine…Wouldn't hear a word against him!"

"I'd love to know what Snape told him to convince," said Tonks, staring blankly at a wall behind the beds.

"There must have been something else," Amy supplied for the first time. "He must have said something or done something that convinced Dumbledore he was one of us. Dumbledore doesn't –_ didn't_ – base his opinions on words. He needed action, he needed an absolute guarantee. When the actions don't mimic the words, the words mean nothing. Your word means nothing without an action that follows through with it."

"No," Harry interrupted. "I know what Snape told him." Everyone in the room turned to look at the teen. His eyes were bright with furious tears, and for the first time, Amy noted that he too was covered in scratches, but she could not for the life of her remember seeing him in the battle outside the Great Hall.

"Snape passed Voldemort the information that made Voldemort hunt down my mum and dad. Then Snape told Dumbledore he hadn't realized what he was doing, he was really sorry he'd done it, sorry that they were dead." These last words came out with an angry hiss, the fury now radiating off Harry in waves.

"And Dumbledore believe that?" Remus interrupted, staring unbelievingly at Harry. "Dumbledore believed Snape was sorry James was dead? Snape _hated_ James…" he trailed off, evidently recalling every time that Snape and James had fought, and argued, and cursed each other, simply for the sake of doing so, simply because they _hated_ each other.

"And he didn't think my mother was worth a damn either," Harry added. Amy looked suddenly at him, watching the rage grow in his eyes. "Because she was Muggle-born… 'Mudblood,' he called her…"

Amy felt a sudden twinge in her leg where her scar resided, burned into her skin. If Snape was willing to sell-out two of his peers, with whom he had spent seven years of his life, simply because one of them was _Muggle-born_ and because he hated the other one, what was stopping him from doing the same to the rest of them? Amy was a Muggle-born herself, and she and Snape had never gotten along exactly. They may not have flung curses at each other in the hall or tried to poison the other – at least not that Amy knew of – but he certainly didn't respect her like he had respected Dumbledore… or like they _thought_ he had respected Dumbledore. If he was willing to murder the one man who had stuck by him, defended him against the wrath of the public time and time again, then what was stopping him from selling the rest of them out?

"This is my fault," Minerva broke in suddenly. Amy turned to look at the now frazzled and distraught witch. "My fault," she repeated. "I sent Poppy to fetch Snape tonight, I actually sent for him to come and help us!" She let out a tight laugh filled with disbelief. "If I hadn't alerted Snape to what was going on, he might never have joined forces with the Death eaters. I don't think he knew they were there before Poppy told him, I don't think he knew they were coming."

"That's one huge might," Amy said softly. "You think he didn't know, but we also thought he was on our side. We thought Hogwarts was safe and that D-Dumbledore was invincible, but look at everything that has happened tonight. What's done is done, and nothing we do can change that now, and there is no way of knowing if something we could've done would change anything."

"It isn't your fault, Minerva," Lupin continued reassuringly. "We all wanted more help, we were glad to think Snape was on his way…"

"So when he arrived at the fight, he joined in on the Death Eaters' side?" Harry asked. His eyes were focused and determined as he tried to piece together how exactly Dumbledore's murderer had made his way to the tower to perform his evil deed.

"I don't know exactly how it happened," Minerva said quietly. She glanced at the other adults in the room who gave her shrugs and confused looks of their own. They had all been too wrapped up in fighting and defending the castle to know exactly when it was the Snape had arrived, or disappeared for that matter. Everything was so chaotic, and the hall had been filled with dust and bright, flying colors. It would've been disastrous for any of them to lose focus for even a second. "Every secret passageway out of the school was covered. Nobody could fly in. There were powerful enchantments on every entrance into the castle. I still don't know how the Death Eaters can possibly have entered…"

"I do," Harry announced. Again, everyone turned to look at the teen who seemed to know all the answers for that evening's lesson on Death Eaters within Hogwarts. "There is a set of Vanishing Cabinets, one here in the castle and one in Knockturn Alley. Malfoy managed to repair them so that the pathway was working again, and so they got in through the Room of Requirement."

There was a moment of silence before the quiet weighed down on the shoulders of those in the room, forcing them to snap.

"I messed up, Harry," Ron proclaimed guiltily. "We did like you told us: We checked the Marauder's Map and we couldn't see Malfoy on it, so we thought he must be in the Room of Requirement, so me, Ginny, and Neville went to keep watch on it… but Malfoy got past us."

Ron and Ginny went on to explain what had occurred before the start of the battle, how Malfoy had blinded them in the hall and led the Death Eaters into the castle. Hermione joined in as well, shamefully explaining how Snape had tricked her and Luna, leaving them to keep watch while he escaped to the other side of the castle. During this story, Amy distanced herself from the rest of the group. She pulled herself from Charlie's embrace and made her way to the front of the Infirmary, away from the others. Charlie stopped to listen briefly to the teens' story before he followed the witch.

Amy's arms were wrapped tightly around her torso, and she was gnawing on her lip anxiously. Her eyes were still filled with unspent tears and she was sniffling quietly.

Charlie stopped in front of her and reached out to grab one of her hands, squeezing it comfortingly. "You alright there, love?" he asked quietly, trying to keep his voice low enough that the others wouldn't hear them. Amy gave a half-hearted shrug and a shake of her head.

"What do you think?" she asked bitterly. "Once again, everything falls apart, and I'm not where I'm supposed to be. I should have been patrolling with the other professors and instead I'm locked up in my room, grading ridiculous, unimportant essays that no one really cares about. What a great Hogwarts defender I am."

"Are you really going to do this again?" Charlie asked wearily. Amy looked up at him with narrowed eyes, curious as to what he meant while at the same time warning him to watch what he said. "Something bad happens, something you personally have no control over, and you take every ounce of blame and guilt and place it on your shoulders. I'm starting to think you have some disease or illness, love."

"I do not," Amy protested in a loud whisper.

"The Katie incident?" Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow. "The Third Task? When your father ended up in the hospital? Last year at the Ministry?_ Tonight_? Is this ringing any bells?"

"I'm not allowed to feel guilty about all this?" Amy asked.

"No," Charlie replied bluntly. "You're not, because you are not at fault. You didn't curse Katie, you didn't put your dad in the hospital, you certainly didn't kill Cedric Diggory, or Sirius Black for that matter, and you are in no way responsible for what happened here tonight. Didn't you just tell Professor McGonagall that there is no way of knowing if her decisions would have impacted tonight's battle? If she's not at fault, than how are you?"

Amy was silent as she took in these words. She wanted to argue against this; she wanted to say that she could have done more, that she _should _have done more, but for the time being, she kept quiet. It wasn't the right time, nor was it the right place, to have that discussion. Dumbledore was dead, Bill was maimed, and the whole world was falling to pieces. There would be time for blame and repentance later, for now though…

For the third time that night, the doors to the Hospital Wing burst open, and Molly, Arthur, and Fleur raced into the room. Their faces were stricken with fear, and the women's faces were strewn with tears. Amy and Charlie were closest to the door, and they jumped as the wood smacked against the stone walls. Molly and Arthur took no notice of their second eldest, as they focused their attention on the bed which the others were surrounding.

Minerva hurriedly got to her feet, approaching the couple anxiously.

"Molly – Arthur – " Minerva started nervously. "I am so sorry – "

"Bill," Molly whispered, interrupting McGonagall's pitiful words. The mother's face was filled with fright and distraught as she took in the appearance of her eldest son. His face was marred and torn and there still remained the green ointment from before. "Oh, _Bill_!"

Molly hurried to the edge of the bed as she gazed down despairingly at her son. Arthur paused at Minerva's side, however, desperate to find out what exactly had happened and what was likely to happen to Bill.

"You said Greyback attacked him?" Arthur asked. "But he hadn't transformed? So what does that mean? What will happen to Bill?"

"We don't yet know," Minerva answered uncertainly. Remus seemed to note the hesitation in the witch's words, and he stepped forward, clearing his throat.

"There will probably be some contamination, Arthur," Remus said carefully, choosing his words with great care. "It is an odd case, possibly unique…We don't know what his behavior might be like when he awakens…"

Molly sniffled loudly from her spot by Bill's bed.

"And Dumbledore…" Arthur continued quietly, glancing from face to face throughout the room. "Minerva, is it true… is he really…?" Arthur trailed off as Minerva nodded slowly and sadly. A look of defeat crossed Arthur's face as he finally accepted the word to be true. "Dumbledore's gone."

Amy spared Charlie a brief glance, and she felt her heart ache at the tight, albeit, despondent look on his face as he looked from his parents to his siblings. Amy could tell from the look in his eyes what it was he was feeling. He was so used to helping everyone, to being the brother that told jokes and was helpful and kind and just, that he didn't know what to do when everything was falling apart. Jokes would be inappropriate, and kindness would only get one so far in a world full of evil. He was at a loss as to what he could do to right the situation. It was times like these that he would look to his big brother, but it was a time like this when he found that Bill was of no help and everything was now on him. His mother was falling apart, his father was too shocked to do anything else, Bill was lying prone on a bed before all of them, his face shredded into pieces, and it was now on him to right the situation, but what was he to do?

Charlie felt as though that the weight of the world and the future happiness of his family were residing on his shoulders, weighing him down. Amy could see the fear and distress in his bright eyes, and she squeezed his large, square hand tightly, trying to transfer all of her strength and warmth with that small, little gesture. Charlie looked towards her, breaking away from his intense brooding, to spare the witch a small smile, which was more of a grimace than anything else. She wanted to say something, anything at all. Charlie was the one who was always comforting her, always telling her to calm down, always trying to soothe her and placate her guilt. Now, it was her turn. He didn't know what to do, he didn't know what to say or how to help, not anymore. She had to show him that she was there and that he wasn't alone.

And she would have too, if it weren't for Molly.

"Of course, it doesn't matter how he looks… It's not r-really important," she muttered, gently stroking the blood streaked hair of her oldest son. She sounded as though she was trying to convince herself more than the others. "But he was a very handsome little b-boy… always very handsome… and he was going to be married!" Molly broke off as though she was about to start sobbing, but Fleur jumped in, interrupting the Mother Weasley.

"And what do you mean by zat?" Fleur demanded angrily. "What do you mean, ''e was _going_ to be married?'"

The room which had been mostly silent before now fell into complete and utter quiet. No one dared to say word or to even take a breath. Fleur and Molly were two of the most irrational, terrifying women most of them knew. They both could fly off at someone with the drop of hat, and when they did, nothing was left intact. Everyone knew this confrontation had been coming for a while; everyone had seen the signs and heard the comments made by the witches. They had just hoped that they would be as far away as possible when the time came for these witches to duke it out.

Molly looked taken aback, having never been addressed this way before. "Well – only that – "

"You theenk Bill will not wish to marry me anymore?" Fleur interrupted. "You theenk, because of these bites, he will not love me?"

For the first time since the Third Task several years ago, Amy clearly saw the other side of the Veela blood displayed in Fleur. The woman's eyes were aglow, and not with tears, and her nostrils flared as she stared down at Molly. This was not a woman angry at being insulted, but a scorned woman, tired of having to constantly prove her wealth and love to her mother-in-law.

"No, that's not what I – " Molly began to protest, but Fleur was having none of it.

"Because 'e will!" Fleur cried. "It would take more zan a werewolf to stop Bill loving me!"

"Well, yes, I'm sure," Molly said hesitantly, "but I thought perhaps – given how – how he – "

"You thought I would not weesh to marry him? Or per'aps, you hoped?" Fleur demanded.

Amy grimaced at this accusation, knowing that there was more truth behind this than many of the Weasleys cared to admit. While she knew that Charlie and his brothers were thrilled for Bill and his fiancé, Ginny and Molly were not quiet at all about their distaste for the French woman, and Fleur had obviously taken note of this.

"What do I care how he looks?" Fleur continued, practically bearing down on the Mother Weasley. "I am good-looking enough for both of us, I theenk! All these scars show is zat my husband is brave! And I shall do zat!" Fleur pounced forward and ripped the jar of ointment from Molly's hand. The younger witch settled onto the edge of Bill's bed and began to dab the paste onto her fiancé's torn skin.

The room waited with abated breath, knowing what was about to come. Yet, for the first time, probably ever, it didn't. Molly Weasley remained silent, for several minutes, in complete and utter shock, complete and utter silence.

"Our Great-Auntie Muriel," Molly began softly, breaking the tense silence of the room, "has a very beautiful tiara – goblin-made – which I am sure I could persuade her to lend you for the wedding. She is very fond of Bill, you know, and it would look lovely with your hair."

"Damn straight, she favors Bill," Charlie muttered over Fleur's response. "She couldn't stand me and my beasts, as she so fondly called them." He made to continue on but was cut short as Molly and Fleur both burst into hysterics, sobbing and weeping into the other's arms. The entire room looked on in shock and confusion, no one really understanding what had just happened.

"If I ever act that crazy," Amy said to Charlie, her forehead furrowed in confusion, "I give you permission to hex me."

Charlie nodded numbly, not used to seeing this type of hysterics from his mother. This entire night had not gone the way he had expected, and he could already feel the weariness of the day begin to settle in on him, urging him to rest and recuperate in the morning. Yet, it seemed as though the night was not through wreaking havoc on the groups' frayed nerves.

Amy would later claim that she saw it coming. She would say that she saw the way Tonks' expression changed as she watched the somewhat heart-warming scene unfold next to Bill's bedside. She would say that she saw the courage and frustration build up in her friend's eyes, and she would swear that she saw a burst of color in Tonks' hair just before the dam broke.

"You see!" Tonks cried, drawing the attention of the room away from the still sobbing witches. The young witch had turned to glare up at Remus, who was standing awkwardly at the foot of Bill's bed. "She still wants to marry him, even though he's been bitten! She doesn't care!"

All eyes in the room were now upon Tonks and Remus. Amy knew this had been coming for months, and while she had always thought it would occur away from the prying eyes of herself, Molly, and several confused teenagers, she supposed that it would be better to happen sooner rather than any later.

"It's different," Remus muttered. He twitched awkwardly, feeling the eyes in the room resting on him, but he kept his gaze on Tonks, who was staring pleadingly up at him. "Bill will not be a full werewolf. The cases are completely – "

"But I don't care either. I don't care!" Tonks argued. Her face was scrunched up in frustration, and she shook Remus' robes as though she was trying to shake sense into the man. "I've told you a million times…"

"And I've told you a million times," Lupin shot back, "that I am too old for you, too poor… too dangerous…" Remus' voice quivered as he said this, and it was in that moment that Amy knew for certain that every feeling, every tear and worry that Amy had seen pour out from Tonks in the last year, were completely and utterly reciprocated by the torn man before them. Remus wanted to be with Tonks, that much was evident now; he wanted to be with her, to hold her, to kiss her, to love her, but he felt that he wasn't good enough. He felt that she was worth so much more than him and that she deserved so much more.

The corner of Amy's mouth quirked a bit at this thought, as she remembered that what Remus was feeling at this exact moment had been something both Amy and Charlie had experienced earlier in their relationship. Fortunately, though, Amy knew that there was a happy outcome, if only Remus would seize the chance.

"I've said all along you're taking a ridiculous line on this, Remus," Molly said from her spot next to Fleur.

"I am not being ridiculous," Remus argued. "Tonks deserves somebody young and whole." He was grasping at straws now. He could feel his walls slowly falling. He was cornered and there was not much else he could do or say.

"But she wants you," Arthur spoke up from besides his wife. "And after all, Remus, young and whole men do not necessarily remain so."

"And second chances rarely have a knack for coming back to find you," Amy spoke up. "It's only once in a while that they do. Good things certainly aren't going to wait for you to wise up. Do you really want to risk missing out on something like love simply because you're afraid?"

Amy's words came straight from the heart, and she couldn't help but glance up at Charlie, wondering if he had caught the meaning beneath her words. The bright light in blue eyes told her that he had, and she nestled herself closer to the wizard, thinking back on the luck they had. After all, their love and relationship was built on second chances. It was built on lessons learned from so many mistakes and acts of cowardice. Fate, or destiny, or luck, or whatever it was had certainly wanted them to get together. It had sent chances back to them time and time again, if only they hadn't taken so long to wise up.

Remus knew he was out of options. He knew that no one would truly be happy until he took Tonks up in his arms and snogged the life out of her, but he also knew that now was neither the place nor the time.

"This is … not the moment to discuss it," Remus protested. "Dumbledore's dead…"

"Dumbledore would have been happier than anybody to think that there was a little more love in the world," Minerva interrupted her former student. She sounded as though she was in the classroom, lecturing her pupils on the ins and outs of the magical world.

Remus was saved from having to respond, either with word or action, as the door to the infirmary opened once more. Those in the Hospital Wing turned to see Hagrid duck beneath the door frame so that he could enter the room. His eyes were red and his face was swollen, and Amy felt her heart go out to the half-giant, a man who had lived and worked besides Dumbledore since he was a kid, and now… he had lost the most stable thing in his life. He looked like a lost boy.

"I've… I've done it, Professor," Hagrid choked out. He wiped nosily at his nose. "M-moved him. Professor Sprout's got the kids back in bed an' Professor Slughorn says the Ministry's bin informed."

In an instant, Amy felt the atmosphere of the room change from mourning and personal to formal and clerical. Minerva straightened herself up and addressed Hagrid directly and intently.

"Thank you, Hagrid," she said. "I shall have to see the Ministry when they get here. Hagrid, please tell the other Heads of Houses – Slughorn can represent Slytherin – that I want to see them in my office forthwith. I would like you to join us too."

Hagrid nodded, sniffed, and left the room quickly, setting off to complete McGonagall's orders. Amy turned to Charlie and offered him a weary and apologetic smile.

"Duty calls," she said softly. Charlie nodded and gripped her hand tightly. "Will you be alright here?" The witch spared a look towards the Weasley clan which was still clustered by Bill's bed.

"I'll be fine," Charlie promised. "It's just my family, after all. They're not the slightest bit terrifying or overwhelming." Amy let out a slight laugh before quieting down. She saw McGonagall exit the Hospital Wing with Harry in tow, and she knew that she couldn't stay much longer.

Reaching up, Amy placed a soft hand on Charlie's face. She stroked his cheek gently, before leaning up to place a chaste kiss to his lips.

"I'll find you as soon as I'm done," she assured him. "Just try and relax for a bit." Charlie gave a noncommittal shrug and a small smile.

"Sure thing, love," he muttered. He place a kiss gingerly to Amy's forehead, wary of the cut which marred her pale flesh, before pulling away and making towards his family.

Amy turned and walked towards the Infirmary doors but stopped at its entrance. She looked back at the family gather around the bed of their fallen brother, and her heart once again gave a painful ache.

"Charlie," Amy said softly, drawing the attention of the forlorn man to her. His eyes were dimmed and his expression broken. "Everything's going to be fine. I promise." She gave him another, hopefully, hopeful smile before she closed the door behind her, and Amy found herself alone in the cold of the castle hallway.

…..

Amy arrived outside the entrance of the Headmaster's – correction, _Headmistress's_ – just as the other Heads of Houses arrived. After all, now that Dumbledore was gone, McGonagall was the leader of Hogwarts. Hagrid was behind them, now weeping loudly and unabashedly. The four paused outside of the staircase, unsure as to the next step. They knew they were supposed to go up the stairs, but they also knew going up those stairs would reaffirm that everything had changed.

They all stood there for a moment, gazing nostalgically and mournfully at the gargoyle before them. No one wanted to say a word, but they knew they couldn't stay out there all night.

"Best get on with it, yes?" Professor Sprout broke in softly. She offered her colleague's a tentative smile before gesturing towards the staircase behind the gargoyle.

"Yeah," Amy said just as softly. "We better." She glumly followed Sprout and a muttering Slughorn up the spiral staircase, with Hagrid bringing up the rear.

Upon their entrance into the Headmistress's office, Amy knew immediately that the group had intruded upon a tense moment. While Harry was standing in the center of the office, his face void of all expression and feeling, McGonagall's expression was a mixture of incredulity and frustration. Amy paused for a second in the doorway, trying to decipher the tense atmosphere of the room.

Nothing had changed within the office. For a moment, Amy half-expected Dumbledore to come waltzing out from one of the many piles of books, whistling and spouting out some sage nonsense, but he didn't. Instead, the room remained gloomy and dark in the night's shadows. It still hadn't fully hit her, and Amy, for some reason, Amy did not want to enter the room, because she knew the second she did, there would be no going back, but she too followed the others into the room, not really listening to Slughorn and his ramblings.

"Snape!" he was crying. "Snape! I taught him! I thought I knew him!"

A sudden movement in the corner of the room caught the attention of those within the office. They looked up just in time to see a pale wizard appear in the frame of a painting.

"Minerva," the painted wizard began, "the Minister will be here within seconds, he has just Disapparated from the Ministry."

"Thank you, Everard," McGonagall said briskly before turning back to the others. "I want to talk about what happens to Hogwarts before he gets here. Personally, I am not convinced that the school should reopen next year." Amy looked up sharply at this, her full attention now on the Headmistress.

"The death of the headmaster at the hands of one of our colleagues is a terrible stain upon Hogwarts's history," McGonagall continued. "It is horrible."

"So was the Triwizard Tournament," Amy argued, "and the whole Umbridge debacle. Yes, this one is certainly more scandalous and horrific, but it shouldn't stop us from reopening the school. The other stains haven't."

"I am sure Dumbledore would have wanted the school to remain open," Pomona agreed, nodding in Amy's direction. "I feel that if a single pupil wants to come, then the school out to remain open for that pupil." It was probably one of the most decisive and determined things Amy had ever heard from the mouth of a Hufflepuff, and she couldn't help but smile.

"But will we have a single pupil after thing?" Slughorn questioned wearily. "Parents will want to keep their children at home and I can't say I blame them. Personally, I don't think we're in more danger at Hogwarts than anywhere else, but you can't expect mothers to think that. They'll want to keep their families together, it's only natural."

"I agree," McGonagall said to Slughorn before turning to face Amy. "And in any case, it is not true to say that Dumbledore never envisaged a situation in which Hogwarts might close. When the Chamber of Secrets reopened he considered the closure of the school – and I must say that Professor Dumbledore's murder is more disturbing to me than the idea of Slytherin's monster living undetected in the bowels of the castle…"

"Should we really be deciding this now?" Amy asked. "Dumbledore was murdered only hours ago. As crude as this is, he's not even cold yet. Should we really be fussing over the status of the school when there are so many other things to be concerned about? Don't we need to meet with the governors? Aren't there protocols or something?"

McGonagall ignored this and turned to the weeping giant in the corner.

"Hagrid, you haven't said anything," Minerva said. "What are your views, ought Hogwarts to remain open?"

The giant looked up blearily, half-surprised and half-weary from his tears. "I dunno, Professor… that's fer the Heads of House an' the headmistress ter decide…" He trailed off and wiped his nose.

"Professor Dumbledore always valued your views," Minerva reminded him, "and so do I."

Hagrid sniffled again before responding.

"Well, I'm stayin'," he told the others. "It's me home, it's bin me home since I was thirteen. An' if there's kids who wan' me ter teach 'em, I'll do it. But… I dunno… Hogwarts without Dumbledore…" he trailed off as the others filled in the blank silently.

'_Isn't really Hogwarts.'_

"Very well," McGonagall agreed, "then I think it is best to consult the governors, who will make the right decision." She turned away from Hagrid to face the others.

"Now, as to getting students home… there is an argument for doing it sooner rather than later," she informed them. Minerva pressed together trembling hands as she continued. "We could arrange for the Hogwarts Express to come tomorrow if necessary –"

"What about Dumbledore's funeral?" Harry broke in. His words drew the attention of the others in the room to the messy haired teen who had been silent since their arrival.

"Well…" Minerva began quietly. "I – I know that it was Dumbledore's wish to be laid to rest here, at Hogwarts – "

"Then that's what'll happen, isn't it?" Harry interrupted boldly. His expression was so fierce that Amy almost took a step back.

"If the Ministry thinks it appropriate," Minerva agreed. "No other headmaster or headmistress has ever been – "

"No other headmaster or headmistress ever gave more to this school," Hagrid growled from between his sniffles.

"Hogwarts should be Dumbledore's final resting place," Amy agreed.

"Absolutely," Pomona said.

"And in that case," Harry continued, gathering speed as he continued, "you shouldn't send the students home until the funeral's over. They'll want to say –" He falter and choked on his words. Professor Sprout jumped in to save him.

"Good-bye."

Harry bit his lip and nodded.

"It only makes sense," Amy said quietly. "He gave us everything so we ought to give him something, _anything_, in return. We can give him tribute, it is fitting after all."

"Seconded," Sprout added. "And we can arrange transportation home afterward."

"I suppose… yes…" Slughorn agreed hesitantly. It was evident he was not a big fan of the idea, but he knew better than to object to the wishes of the witches in the room.

"He's coming," McGonagall said suddenly, looking out the window to the grounds. Amy peered over her shoulder and saw the light of several wands guiding the way for a wizard with a large mane of hair. "The Minister… and by the looks of it, he's brought a delegation."

"Can I leave, Professor?" Harry asked quickly.

"You may," Minerva agreed, knowing that the teen was neither in the right mood or state of mind to deal with a full Ministry inquisition. "And quickly."

Harry practically sprinted for the door, charging down the steps to return back to his dorm. As Amy watched the Ministry officials swiftly infiltrate the castle, she turned to look at her colleagues.

"May I also leave, Professor?" Amy asked, only half-joking. Their serious expressions were Amy's only response as the sounds of a large group coming up the stairs alerted them that they were in for a long night.

…..

The sun was just beginning to poke through the night sky when Amy finally found herself falling into her bed. Scrimgeour had kept the staff locked up in McGonagall's office, interrogating them over and over until he probably could have recited the entire story back to them, word for word. Amy was beyond exhausted and she felt as though she would sleep for the next several years.

Thankful for the warmth of her blankets, the extra plushiness of her pillows, and the warmth of Charlie next to her (Amy assumed that he had made his way to her quarters sometime earlier, needing to get away from his family for some much needed rest), Amy allowed herself to slowly drift closer and closer to peace and quiet, if only for a little while…

"Amy?"

The witch's eyes opened in a flash, and she turned her head wearily to face the speaker. Amy had presumed that Charlie was fast asleep when she had first entered the room, but she could now see the bags and redness beneath his eyes, revealing to her that he had probably not gotten a wink of sleep.

"Charlie?" the witch responded, her voice hoarse and exhausted. She yawned quietly and shifted so that she was lying on her side facing the wizard.

The red head was lying on his back with his arms crossed beneath his head. He was staring unblinkingly up at the ceiling. There were several moments of silence as Amy waited for Charlie to say something, but the wizard remained quiet. Hating the tense silence, the witch shifted awkwardly beneath the sheets causing them to rustle.

"How's Bill?" Amy asked after several more minutes of silence. She hoped Charlie would respond or give her a nod or something, but he again he said nothing. His attention was completely focused on the ceiling, his eyes glazing over the structure. Amy would have thought he was dead, he was so motionless, but she could see the slight rise and fall of his chest. Perhaps, he was asleep…with his eyes open… it had been known to happen, right?

The couple fell back into silence, and once again, Amy felt the warm arms of sleep slip around her, embracing her and urging her into the land of sleep. Against her will, she could feel her eyes grow heavy with sleep, and she again began to drift away. Charlie's silhouette in the early morning sun was the last thing she saw as her eyes slowly closed…

"I was at the office when I heard," Charlie spoke softly. For the second time that night – or was it morning? – Amy's eyes opened right as she neared the edge of sleep and bliss. She blinked dazedly as she tried to focus her attention on the wizard beside her. He hadn't moved an inch, and his gaze remained stonily on the ceiling.

"I was at work, and I was thinking about whether I should go back to my place or Floo you and spend the night here. I knew you too would probably be working late on essays or something similar, so I thought that it would be best for me to go back to my flat and see you in the morning.

"I had just decided this when the entire Ministry seemed to explode in a flurry of noise and people running about. No one was really making much sense, but the one thing I was certain about was that something was wrong and it was wrong at Hogwarts."

He let out a little, bitter laugh. "I don't think my co-workers have ever seen me move so quickly. One second I was there, just as confused as the rest of them, and the next, I was gone. I knew I had to get to Hogwarts as quickly as possible.

"And I'm not sure if this is the funny part or the part that frustrates me most, but as I was racing to one of the Floo networks, I wasn't thinking about any of my siblings or if they were hurt or if the younger ones were smart enough to hide themselves away from danger for once. I was thinking about _you_. I was thinking about the last time something like this happened and that I had almost lost you.

"I was so relieved that you were okay that I didn't even think of my brothers or Ginny. All that mattered to me was that you were okay, that you were alive. I didn't care about anyone else; all I could think about was you, and I was so scared that you would be hurt or that I would lose you. Anyone else but you."

Amy stayed quiet; biting her lip so hard that she feared she many break the skin. Yet she didn't let go, because she knew that if she did, the sobs building up in her would burst. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes and she blinked furiously, willing herself not to let them fall.

Here was this man, this brave, strong, handsome, wonderful man, telling her that in a time of war, all he cared about was her and that she was safe. It was enough to make any girl swoon. After all, what women wouldn't want a man to tell her she was his whole world? And that's what Charlie was telling her, right?

Carefully, she swallowed, forcing herself to push down her cries before opening her mouth. She wanted to say that she loved him, that she hated this war because it wreaked havoc on her nerves. She was constantly worrying about him, always fearful that he would be attacked or harmed. She wanted to tell him that he was all she thought about, that he was the first and last thing she thought about every day in fact. She wanted to tell him that he was her world too.

But Charlie spoke before she could.

"Merlin, aren't I a selfish bastard?" he muttered suddenly and bitterly. "Half my siblings are fighting a battle and I completely brush them off because I can only think about my girlfriend!

Amy blinked, a furrow growing on her forehead. Charlie continued to mutter and scold himself while Amy took a moment to mull over Charlie's words. Words, which Amy found herself repeating silently as they sounded so much like the ones she had cried earlier.

She had been so relieved to discover that Charlie was unharmed that it wasn't her boyfriend lying mauled and marred in the hospital wing, and she had felt so guilty when she realized that it was Charlie's brother lying in that bed instead.

Suddenly, the room fell silent and Amy felt herself being pulled from her thoughts. It took her a moment to realize that Charlie had stopped his tirade and had returned to staring stonily at the ceiling. Perhaps he had run out of criticism or maybe he thought that she was so disgusted with him and his actions that it would be better for him to be quiet before he drove her away.

"Tonight, after the battle," Amy began quietly, "they pulled Bill from the rubble. He was unconscious and bleeding, and I don't think I've ever been more terrified in my life. All I could see was the blood and that bright Weasley hair. I kept thinking that this couldn't be happening, that this was all a dream. It was the only thing that made sense at the time. I couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that this man was bleeding and most likely dying and there was nothing I could do.

"And then…" Amy trailed off, her gaze roaming over Charlie's profile, tracing the edge of his nose and the soft curve of his lips. She tried to imagine his features marred by Greyback's claws, but she found she didn't. Or perhaps it was couldn't. "I realized it was Bill and not you.

"For a moment, I was filled with relief," Amy continued softly. "You weren't hurt, you weren't bleeding, and you weren't possibly dying. And then that moment was gone and guilt washed over me. How could I be relieved that someone else was hurt in place of you? I should have been upset no matter who it was that was lying there bleeding, but I couldn't help but be happy, if only for a moment, that it wasn't you.

"Maybe one day I'll be able to figure out how and why you have this hold over me," Amy finished. "Maybe one day we'll both understand why it is that we matter so much to each other, and why nothing makes sense to either of us when the other is hurt or in danger. Maybe one day things won't be like this and we won't have to worry about being attacked or murdered or kidnapped. Maybe one day we won't have to feel relieved that someone else was hurt in place of one of us. Maybe we won't have to feel so guilty about our love. Maybe one day…"

Amy fell silent, waiting for Charlie to say something, anything, but he didn't. So instead, Amy rolled over so that she was no longer facing Charlie but the opposite wall. Perhaps he was disgusted with her, perhaps he thought she was crazy and selfish, perhaps-

There was a rustle of sheets followed by a strong pair of arms wrapping themselves around Amy's torso. The witch felt herself being pulled away from the edge of the bed and into Charlie's embrace. As her back came into contact with Charlie's sturdy chest, she breathed a sigh of relief, one that she didn't know she had been holding in. She grasped one of his hands and held on tightly as he leaned forward, resting his mouth next to her ear.

"Let's be selfish together," he murmured and Amy let out a choked laugh in response before allowing the tears she had been holding in for hours to slip out from her weary eyes and spill over onto her pillow and sheets. Charlie felt the sobs wracking her body and he tightened his grip on her, pulling her even closer into his embrace.

"Okay," she choked out eventually. "I like that idea." There was a brief moment of silence before Amy dissolved into tears once again. She hated crying in front of Charlie, knowing it made her look weak, but after everything that had happened in the past day, she felt as though she deserved to have a moment to break down and wallow in all she had lost. Hogwarts was no longer safe, and the world was no longer all good, and Dumbledore was simply no longer. She had lost all she knew in a matter of hours and now all she had left was Charlie and the feel of his arms wrapped lovingly around her.

Her tears overwhelmed her and forced her to take in short, choppy breaths, and as she cried, she mourned. She mourned the loss of the safe haven that once was Hogwarts, and she mourned the loss of her students' innocence and naivety, and she mourned the loss of one of the greatest wizards to have ever graced the planet, and she mourned for Bill and Fleur, who would be forced to live with Bill's brave actions for the rest of their lives. She mourned for Tonks and Remus, who were so perfect for each other that it hurt her physically to see them kept apart. She mourned for Harry, who had lost his mentor, and she mourned for Snape, who had burned all of his bridges, leaving him no escape.

And she mourned for herself and for Charlie. Their relationship had finally seemed to have reached the homestretch. They had gotten through the rough parts, and they had made it out together… or so they thought. Who knew where their relationship was going now. They had already lost so much, but Amy didn't think she would be able to deal with losing Charlie as well. Not after she had lost everything else in such a short span of time.

So she mourned. And she cried. And she held onto Charlie so tightly that she was surprised he didn't wince or complain. And eventually, she drifted into a fitful sleep, her tears drying in tracks on her face, while Charlie held onto her and mourned all on his own.

After all, he had lost just as much and he had just as much to mourn over.

Everyone did.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> What do you think? Good? Bad? Ugly? Supermegafoxyawesomehot? Maybe... not likely, but I can hope, right? Again, don't forget to review! I really do appreciated each and every one that I get, so don't be afraid! I don't bite, promise!

Review?

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	65. Chapter 64

**AN:** Hello one and all! Again, I'm so sorry for the delay. I really should have updated sooner and it's completely my own laziness and obsessiveness that kept me from doing so. I apologize for the delay, and I hope you can all forgive me. I've been working on this chapter a lot the last couple of days and I'm super excited to get it out to you. I'm also super excited because I got my AP U.S. History score today and I'm so freakin' happy. Like no kidding, I squealed. So I wanted to share my excitement via a chapter, so here you go! Hope you all enjoy!

**Dedication:** To all my teachers this year. Even the ones I hate(d). I really appreciate you putting up with my sass and not strangle me for my grade-obsession. Thanks dolls. (P.S. Straight A student. What what! Suck it Chemistry.)

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing you recognize.

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><p>"Hey Mom? Have you seen my boots anywhere?"<p>

"I think Ollie was playing with them, dear!"

Amy groaned and fell backwards to lean against the wall. She shook her head and glared at the culprit cat that was sleeping in the middle of her bed. He opened a green eye to peer at her, and Amy swore she saw a smirk beneath his furry cat lips. She stuck her tongue out at him, not caring how childish she looked.

"Guess that means they're gone forever," the witch moaned. She sighed and ran a hand through her mussed hair before turning her attention back to the suitcase before her. Books, clothes, and papers were overflowing the sides of the bag, despite the fact that everything had once fit in there perfectly and with room to spare. She peered at the bag before looking around her room and the other things that she still needed to pack. It hadn't seemed like much at first, but she certainly did have a lot of stuff, and she really didn't feel like getting up to get her wand from her nightstand so that she could magically enlarge the bag. That would take way too much work and it was much too hot and much too humid for the witch to even think about moving.

So, she instead pushed the suitcase away and sprawled out on the floor of her childhood bedroom. Sighing quietly and ignoring the sounds of movement from just beyond her doorway, Amy stared up at the cracked and peeling paint of her ceiling. The relative quiet of the room was making her drowsy, and she could feel her eyes growing heavy with exhaustion. Of course, this wasn't very surprising.

Since she had arrived in Chicago two weeks earlier, Amy had found herself succumbing to sleeping in late and frequent afternoon naps. Georgie, Katherine, and Michelle had made jokes that it was that 'sexy muscle man' of hers that was exhausting her, but in actuality, Charlie had very little to do with Amy's lack of sleep. Her insomnia was unfortunately related to tragedy rather than passion.

In the days following Dumbledore's death, Amy and the other teachers found that they were swamped with preparations, finding transportation for the students, and dealing with the pesky media. The end-of-term exams had been postponed, but the students could not find it within themselves to rejoice. Their fearless leader was dead and at the hands of one of their own teachers. The school was in a state of mourning, yet the world around them still continued on, no matter how hard the community tried to stop it.

The morning of Dumbledore's funeral came much too quickly for all of them, and the amount of pain and tears of that day was unlike anything that Amy had ever seen, and she suspected, that most of the people there had ever seen. Dumbledore was a beloved man, an honorable man, and as such his funeral attracted witches and wizards from all over the world. The grounds of Hogwarts was swamped with hundreds of visitors, dressed in black and tearing up as they made their way to the edge of the forest.

The entire school made their way down to the forest after breakfast, the students following in the wake of their Heads of Houses. The students were unnervingly quiet, and Amy could feel her skin prickling and the hairs on her arms stand under her black robes. The silence was disturbing, but then again, this was a disturbing time.

As the students found their seats, still uncommonly quiet, Amy took a moment to observe those who were gathered before the grand marble stand. Many of the seats were occupied by those Amy did not recognize; old colleagues and self-important members of the Ministry, perhaps a true old friend here and there. Interspersed among the nameless faces and busybodies were certain faces that Amy recognized. A large member of the Order, though that was not surprising, Madam Maxime, who Amy had not seen in several years, and much to Amy's pleasure, Remus and Tonks who were sitting contently next to each other, their hands intertwined.

A small smile crossed her face as she continued her scan of the crowd of mourners, and it only took her a few moments before her sights fell on a group of red hair that gleamed out above the mass of black. Molly and Arthur were sitting quietly next to each other, the wizard comforting his wife as she cried softly into a handkerchief. Next to her were the Twins, who looked as somber as Amy had ever seen them, and next to them was Fleur and Bill. The eldest Weasley child look much better than he had the night of the invasion, but he was still unnaturally pale and his face was still a bloody mess for lack of a better word. But he was alive and in surprisingly good spirits. The last red head of hair belong to Charlie who was seated next to his father with slumped shoulders, his forearms rested on his thighs and his hands twisting between his knees. He was speaking lowly to his father but he caught Amy's eye and gave her a small smile complete with twinkling eyes.

Amy spared him a smile of her own before tearing her attention away from him and back to her students, who were now seated amongst the other funeral attendants. Knowing that the ceremony was about to begin, she slowly made her way to the front of the crowd, where a section of seats had been set aside for the teachers and faculty. She did her best to give a smile and comforting pat on the shoulder to the crying students that she passed, but she knew that each smile of hers was getting dimmer and less-real as she drew closer to the front of the mass and to the gleaming marble stand.

The staff was the last to be seated, and much to Amy's chagrin, they were also the fortunate ones to be seated amongst some of the more 'esteemed' members of the Ministry, including the Minister himself and the ever-so delightful Dolores Umbridge. Amy quickly seated herself next to Sprout, praying that the older witch's sweet disposition would stop her from throwing a fit and ripping the hideous black bow from Umbridge's head. It had been a year since Amy had seen the Toad-Witch and yet there was nothing more she wanted to do than give her a piece of her mind.

All these angry thoughts slipped away from Amy in a moment as she heard the eerie and despondent music wash over the audience from the lake and she felt the rumble of heavy steps behind her. As those around her turned their attention away from the marble table before them, Amy kept her attention to the front of the funeral, not wanting to turn and see, what she knew to be, the start of the funeral. She remained rigid and her fingernails cut through the thin fabric of her robes and into her skin as she stared ahead.

A massive shadow passed over her and in the corner of her eye, Amy saw the fabric of Hagrid's black coat as he made his way, slowly but surely, to the marble table. He stood there, making quiet elephant noises, before moving away from the table and to the back of the crowd where his brother, Grawp was waiting for him.

As Hagrid took his leave, a small wizard moved to the front of the assembly and stood before the table to begin the ceremony. Yet the only thing Amy could think was that she wished the speaker were much taller and much larger. She wished he was big enough to block the table from her view, because now that Hagrid was gone, replaced by this small wizard, she could plainly see the purple and gold shroud resting on the marble table. And with that sight, Amy felt her rigid resolve break and her shoulders slumped forward as tears streamed down her face.

Before this moment, Amy had been able to convince herself that none of this was real, that it wasn't true. Until this moment, there had been the slightest glimmer of hope that this was some terribly cruel joke or a miscommunication. But now that he was here before them… broken and hidden away, Amy knew that there was no point of return. Albus Dumbledore was dead, and the entire Wizarding World was now left, basically defenseless, on the brink of dark, bloody war.

Of all the things that Amy had thought could happen to her when she came to Hogwarts, she never thought that she would be faced with this exact moment. The very idea was unimaginable, an unthinkable surprise. Meeting Charlie and falling in love with him was surprise, yes, but he was a wonderful surprise that changed her life for the better. There was no arguing that. Joining the Order and working in the movement against Voldemort was also a surprise, but Amy had always been one to stand up for what she believed in, so in actuality it was more the fact that there was a group dedicated to the cause that surprised her more than anything.

But this? This moment where she was seated at the funeral of one of the greatest wizards to every live? Where she was crying and mourning the loss of a colleague, friend, leader, father? She had never imagined this, and she understood why this possibility had crossed her mind.

It was because it was simply too horrible, too heart-wrenching, too crushing to imagine.

And yet… here it was. Entirely too horrible, entirely too heart-wrenching, and entirely too crushing.

Entirely too _real_.

And then the moment was gone and in its place stood nothing. Amy was pulled from her thoughts as the small wizard seated himself and silence loomed over the mass of mourners. She knew what was coming next, but that didn't stop her from jumping as the marble table before her burst into bright white flames and the fallen body of Albus Dumbledore disappeared from her sight forever. When the flames died away, all that remained was a large, white marble tomb which now encased the great wizard's body. Before anyone could move, arrows landed at the feet of the mourners, and Amy could see the flanks of the centaurs who were leaving behind their tribute.

Amy supposed that it the funeral had been much longer than she remembered, but her thoughts were so hazy, and her mind so tired, that she couldn't remember what had been said throughout the entire ceremony. All she knew was that it was over and people were on their feet, moving away from the grand tomb. Amy found herself on her feet with the rest of the crowd and she followed the rest of the staff as they made their way away from the tomb. She listened inattentively to the rest of the staff make meager conversation with those around her. She didn't hear the fake words of sympathy from Umbridge or see the tears of the 'close' old friends of Dumbledore's, all of who were just so desperately curious to know more of what had happened the night he died.

What she did remember though, quite vividly actually, was how quickly she snapped out of her mood when she found herself being introduced by Minerva to one Aberforth Dumbledore. It took her a moment to gather her surroundings but when she did, she found herself standing before a tall wizard with a grey beard and bright blue eyes. For a moment, Amy thought she was standing once more before Albus Dumbledore, but she shook these thoughts away, forcing herself into reality.

"Mr. Dumbledore," Amy said quietly, "I'm Amy Wyman, the Charms professor here. It's a pleasure to meet you, even under such tragic circumstances. I truly am sorry for your loss."

There was a twitch in the man's jaw.

"I have lost nothing," Aberforth said suddenly. Amy was taken aback but said nothing. There was no sense of bitterness in the man's words, only finality. "Albus hasn't been my brother for a long time."

"Still," Amy said quietly, "I think almost everyone feels some sense of loss over your brother's death. He was a great teacher, if not a great man."

"He doesn't look that great from his shadow," Aberforth said tersely, and despite these cold rules, Amy couldn't help but smile.

"Well, I certainly understand that," she said softly. "It's never easy living in the shadow of your siblings. I can attest to that."

"Oh, can you?" he asked gruffly. "I suppose you would know all about that, Professor Wyman?"

"More than I would care to know, Mr. Dumbledore," Amy replied. "As the youngest of four, I do know a little something about living up to one's siblings."

"And I suppose your siblings are all next in line to be Minister of Magic or the next great Quidditch star? Must be quite difficult for a teacher to live up to those standards," Aberforth continued.

Amy laughed, surprised at herself for being able to find humor so easily. She felt relieved that Aberforth did not look affronted at her laugh.

"No, not exactly," she conceded. "My siblings are all Muggles." Aberforth's eyebrow twitched slightly. "And I'm afraid that being a witch makes me a tad too different for my family's taste, and my family isn't too fond of being different."

"What's wrong with being different?" Aberforth asked.

"Nothing," Amy replied instantly. "But it certainly does make it more difficult for my family to understand me and any of my accomplishments. Anything I do that may be worth the slightest bit of praise is blown off simply because it's different, and thus I can never meet the expectations of my parents or rise above the standards set by my dear siblings.

"They still love me, of course, there's no doubt about that," Amy continued softly, "but it certainly is hard trying to prove oneself when there's already a set idea as to where you are on the family scale of proudness and praise. I'm afraid that my inability to be completely normal in my family's eyes places me way below my siblings, and my decision to throw away whatever talents I may possess so that I can live the shabby life of an underpaid teacher does little to change my family's mind that I am worth being proud of."

Amy paused and leaned forward conspiratorially towards Aberforth. "But do you wish to know a secret, Mr. Dumbledore?" When the wizard raised a bushy eyebrow in response, Amy continued. "I really couldn't care less, because I'm happy living my life as a teacher of young witches and wizards. And if I'm happy with what I've done with my life and what I plan on doing with my life, what does it matter what my siblings and parents think?"

Amy didn't wait for him to reply to this. Instead, she leaned away from the wizard suddenly. "I'm sorry for wasting your time, Mr. Dumbledore," she said quietly. "Again, I'm sorry for your loss. Your brother was a great man, and I'm sure you are as well."

She turned away quickly and began to make her way through the crowd. As she moved away, she managed to hear one sentence fall from the older wizard's lips.

"I quite like that witch."

A real smile bloomed across Amy's face for the first time in days.

…..

"What are you doing?"

Amy opened her eyes drowsily and stared up at the cracking ceiling above her. She could feel the scratchy fabric of the carpet beneath her fingertips and she sleepily turned her head to peer at her mother who was standing in the doorway to her childhood room.

"Just thinking," Amy said softly.

Ann raised a curious eyebrow. "Anything of importance?"

Amy shook her head. "No, not really."

"Right, well then you'd best finish packing," Ann ordered. She surveyed the messy remnants of her daughter's room and grimaced. "That wizard of yours will be waiting for you. I suspect he's missed you as much as your mopey self has missed him."

Amy smirked. "Not possible," she argued, thinking fondly of Charlie who would be waiting for her when she got back to England. In the time after Dumbledore's funeral, Amy and Charlie had spent several days together, simply enjoying each other's company and their lack of responsibilities. Their time together had been cut short thought by Amy's trip to Chicago to visit her family. Alan and Ann had been anxious to see from their youngest child, especially after the happenings of the previous Christmas holiday. They wanted to see for themselves that she was truly alright and well. It had taken several days for them to accept that she was perfectly find and not likely to break at the drop of a hat. Despite this, Amy's family had continued to tip-toe around her on her stay, speaking to her in hushed voices and constantly urging her to go to bed early. Like seven thirty in the evening early.

Finally, Amy couldn't take their nonsense anymore and had set them straight, telling them that she was more than perfectly capable of taking care of herself and that if they continued to treat her as though she were inept that she would leave and not look back. Her threat was, of course, half-hearted, because it was so very nice to see her family after so long, but they didn't have to know that. But now that she had spent some much needed time with her parents and siblings and dear friends, it was time for her to head back home. She had missed London and the Wizarding World entirely too much and she had missed Charlie even more than that. He had been reluctant to let her go in the first place, and it was only after promising that he would be rewarded greatly for his patience and sacrifice that she was able to go home without him in tow. The thought of him alone was enough to get Amy sitting up and finishing her packing.

It had been nice to get away from the chaos and turmoil of the Wizarding World, but Amy knew it was time to go home. Home to her flat, and to her friends, and home to Charlie. The thought of returning home to her charming wizard was so incredibly pleasing to the witch that she found herself crawling through the wretched heat for her wand so that she could speed the packing process. And sure enough within minutes, Amy's childhood room was back to its tidy mess of books and photos, and Amy was standing in the front room of her old house with her bag in hand and a crying mother on her shoulder. Ann tended to be a tad melodramatic and nostalgic whenever Amy was coming or going. This time, of course, was no different. Alan was happy to look on from a safe distance.

"Come on, Mom," Amy breathed, awkwardly patting her mother on the shoulder. "You said yourself that I should hurry up, right? Now you don't want me to go?"

"I never want you to go!" Ann protested loudly, causing an obnoxious ringing to start in Amy's ear. "You're my baby! You're supposed to stay here forever."

"Really? You want me living under your roof for the rest of my life?" Amy asked, eyeing her father pleadingly. "I thought you would have had enough of me after the first eighteen years, you really want to add on an additional twenty or so?"

"Please no!" Alan protested immediately, his bright blue eyes going wide. Ann released Amy and the two Wyman women turned to look at the man with raised eyebrows. Alan in return gave a fleeting smile and a shrug. "Sorry, Amy dear, but I don't think I could handle another week of having you in the house blowing things up, let alone another twenty years!"

"No offense taken, Dad," Amy laughed. "I can barely live with myself and my pyrotechnic capabilities most days." She smiled broadly at her father and moved to give him a hug, squeezing him tightly.

"And you promise to write more?" Ann asked from the side, watching her husband and youngest daughter embrace. Amy let out a laugh and pulled away to face her mother, one arm still wrapped around her father's middle.

"Oh yeah, Mom," she said with a teasing smile. "Every day if you like."

Ann gave her a wry look. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" she asked snippily.

"Oh, now you want me to leave?" Amy asked, pulling away from her father to pick up her bag. "Make up your mind, woman!"

"Don't sass me, Amy Elizabeth," Ann warned. "I brought you into this world and I can certainly take you out of it."

"I assure you, Mom," Amy teased, "you're terrifying. Simply the most frightening mother to ever walk the earth."

"I'm warning you-"

"Yes, Mom," Amy broke in, still smiling brightly. "I'll send a letter in a few days, and I'll try to come and visit more often."

"Just be safe, darling," Alan pleaded, wrapping an arm around his wife's shoulders. "For our sanity."

"You know me, Dad," Amy said.

"Exactly," Alan broke in before she could say anything else. "Be safe."

Amy smirked. "I'll try my best," she promised. With a final smile and wave good-bye, Amy turned on her heel and vanished with a crack.

…..

"Hello? Charlie?"

Amy peered into the darkness of her apartment, unsure exactly as to what was happening. Charlie did know that she was coming home today, right? They had Floo'd each other the previous night, and it seemed that all they could talk about was her return home, and yet… Charlie was nowhere to be seen. Her apartment seemed empty, and Amy couldn't help but put her guard up, carefully slipping her wand from her pocket. She grasped it tightly in her hand and made her way further into her apartment, leaving her bag in the front hall.

As she made her way through her apartment, Amy became aware of an overwhelming aroma that seemed to be wafting towards her from the direction of her normal unused kitchen, and as she came closer to the kitchen, Amy noticed a bright glow illuminating through the doorway. With caution and curiosity in her step, the witch walked slowly to the kitchen door and stopped at the sight before her.

"What the-?"

Amy broke off, her eyes going wide with disbelief and wonder. Standing before her, looking incredibly dashing in a Muggle suit and tie, was Charlie. He was smiling lowly at her, his blue eyes shining in the light of several candles which were spread across her kitchen table. A table which Amy realized was set quite elegantly with candles and wine glasses and an absolutely amazing spread of food.

"Charlie," Amy gasped. "What is all of this?"

Charlie smiled from his place behind the table and shrugged. "It's our anniversary," he told the witch. Amy stopped her gawking to look at the wizard now completely bewildered. She was obviously having difficulty wrapping her mind around Charlie's words. She was still completely overwhelmed by the spread of food and that _amazing_ smell.

"No, it isn't," Amy finally spluttered out. "It's not even close to our anniversary."

"True," Charlie agreed, the smile on his face never fading, "but seeing as we didn't get to spend our first anniversary together due to…unforeseen circumstances, I figured why not celebrate it now."

"But why today?" Amy asked. "What's so special about today?"

"Really love?" Charlie asked in exasperation. "Does a bloke really have to explain himself for making a bloody fantastic meal and getting all dressed up for his girl? I thought women liked their men to be romantic."

"Oh, I'm not saying there's anything wrong with this," Amy protested with a laugh. "I mean I'm not going to complain about coming home to a great looking meal and an equally great looking man. I'm just trying to piece together what is going on and whether or not I'm dreaming."

"Ah," Charlie said, getting a sudden gleam in his eye. "I might be able to help with that."

And before she knew it, Charlie had crossed the room, reaching out to pull her close to him and up onto her toes so that their lips could meet. Amy's eyes fluttered shut as Charlie's lips moved deftly over hers, drawing her further into him and his warmth. He was completely intoxicating, and after not seeing him for so long, Amy couldn't care less. Instead, she pressed herself closer to him and kissed him back. The feel of his mouth on hers had the witch forgetting all about her worries and the fact that there was a warm meal growing cold next to them. All she could think about was his hot, hungry lips pressed tightly against hers and the bolts of electricity and fire that were coursing through her veins.

So to have him pull away from her after several more tantalizing moments was like having someone throw a bucket of ice water on her. She drew in several deep breaths but she still found herself gasping for sweet air as she stared up at Charlie with lidded eyes. He didn't appear to be as affected as her, but instead he was smiling crookedly at her.

"Still think you're dreaming, love?" he asked quietly. One of his hands gently brushed her cheek, savoring its soft contours, while his other hand remained wrapped tightly around her waist, almost possessively. Amy couldn't find it within herself to care however, because she loved the idea of being his and his alone.

"I certainly hope so," Amy murmured. "I would hate to wake up from a dream like this." She leaned on to her tip-toes so she could press a soft kiss of her own to his equally soft lips. She kept herself pressed closed to him for a moment, before pulling away slowly until only their breaths were mixed.

It was now Charlie's turn to look dazed, but he quickly shook himself from this and chuckled lowly.

"If you keep that up, darling," he told her quietly, "I'm fear we're going to spoil our dinner."

"Who cares?" Amy asked, her eyes mesmerized by the slow movements of his lips.

"I'm afraid I do," he responded with a sigh. He cast a pointed look at the laden table. "I did slave away over this meal all day after all. I would hate for it to go to waste."

"Well then," Amy said dazedly, still remembering the feel if his lips on hers, "we had best sit down. Wouldn't want this amazing meal to go to waste, would we?" Amy moved as though to sit down at the table, but Charlie stopped her, placing a hand on her waist to do so.

"Ah ah," he said with a bright smile. "You really think I'm going to let you eat our anniversary dinner looking like that?"

Amy looked down at her shorts and tank top before back at Charlie with a raised eyebrow.

"Really?" Amy asked. "You're really going to make me change? Weren't you just saying that you were afraid this lovely meal would go to waste?"

"We'll risk it," Charlie protested. "If I have to be dressed up so do you. We're celebrating our anniversary properly, which means that you are to go into your room and put on some dress and some make-up and then you're going to come out here so that I can charm the pants off you with just how romantic and gallant I am."

"Wait, so am I putting on a dress or pants?" Amy asked with a teasing smile. Charlie gave her a pointed look and pointed at her bedroom door.

"Go."

Amy held up her hands in surrender and made her way towards her room. She hesitated in the doorway and looked back over her shoulder at Charlie.

"You know," she started slowly. "If we were doing this properly, we probably should be doing this on the actual day we got together."

"Out."

…..

Charlie waited until he heard the door to the bedroom shut completely before he moved to finish up the dinner. He couldn't find it in himself to wipe the smile from his face as he thought about the woman in the next room. He still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that he was fortunate enough to call her his. He really had missed her for the past few weeks. It just hadn't been the same coming home to an empty apartment. He was so used to finding her sitting on his couch, her hair mussed up and a book in hand. Sometimes she was still awake to greet him with a wide yawn and heavy eyes, while other times he would find her sprawled across the couch, her book hanging limply from her hand and snoring softly.

It would be nice to have that return to normalcy. The past few months had made him realize just how dependent he was on this witch, just how possessive he was of her and how there wasn't a moment that went by that she didn't occupy his thoughts. There was always something for him to connect back to her, no matter how hard he tried. She was all he could think about, and he certainly wasn't complaining. All it meant was that needed to do something to ensure that she would always be there and that he would always have the opportunity to tell him how much he loved her.

And he had a plan. A plan which he had already set into action and which ended with the tiny box in his pocket.

Charlie paused in his motions as the thought of the little box crossed his mind and he slipped his hand into the pocket of his dress pants to reassure himself that it was in fact still there. He closed his eyes for a moment and thought about what it was he would say and what he when he was going to say it and he could almost imagine the feeling of exhalation and utter joy that would run through him. He wondered how he would tell his parents, how his Mum would react-

"Knut for your thoughts?"

Amy's voice spread like warmth into the small room, and Charlie pulled his hand from his pocket in a flash, trying his best to act normal.

"Seems a bit cheap, doesn't it?" he asked, trying to keep his nerves from revealing themselves. "I did after all make you dinner, not to mention I got all dress up for you –"

Charlie broke off as he had finally gathered enough courage to turn and face the witch, and he found himself at a loss for words. Amy smiled at him from across the room, her teeth chewing on her bottom lip. She looked down hesitantly before back up at him tentatively and Charlie felt his heart skip a beat.

The warm glow of the candles washed over her, giving her a rosy hue which was only brightened by the rich red color of her dress. It was short, barely grazing the tops of her knees, and there was a shiny ribbon cinched around her waist, stopping a pattern of lace from traveling up the top of the dress. There were no sleeves on the dress, but there was sheer fabric draped over her chest, giving Charlie a peek at the soft skin of her shoulders and collar. Her hair was loose and curled, hanging wildly around her shoulders.

"I hope this isn't too simple," Amy said quietly. "Wouldn't want to spoil our special dinner because my dress wasn't up to par."

"It's perfect," Charlie choked out. "Really." He didn't say much more as he couldn't find it within himself to tear his eyes away from her.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, her smiling growing into a smirk. "You seem oddly quiet."

"N-No," he stammered. He gripped the kitchen counter to balance himself. "N-Nothing wrong. Nothing at all."

Amy smiled again and looked down at her dress again. "I figured it would be rather appropriate," she told him. "Show some Gryffindor pride for my Gryffindor boyfriend. Rather fitting, don't you think?"

"I think," Charlie said, taking a deep breath, "that we should sit down before I'm unable to keep my hands off you. "

"Is that such a bad thing?"

"Merlin Amy," Charlie laughed. "You're going to be the death of me."

"I would hope not," Amy protested as Charlie made his way across the room to pull out her chair for her. She sat down and pulled a napkin onto her lap. "How would I ever survive without you?"

Charlie smiled and pressed a soft kiss to the smooth skin just below her ear. "Let's hope you never have to find out."

…..

Charlie's cooking abilities would never fail to astound Amy. Of all the meals they had every shared and of all the disastrous attempts she had made at cooking, he never failed to make something so wonderful that it even rivaled his mother's dishes. This was certainly something she could get used to and she made sure to point this out to Charlie as they finished their dinner and made their way onto the dessert.

"Well, thanks for that," Charlie laughed. "It's good to know I'm useful for something."

"Someone has to feed me," Amy said, "or I'll forget and starve over a pile of essays."

"And what a shame that would be."

"You're really going to sass me on our anniversary?"

"I'm sorry, did I miss the memo which said I can't sass you on special days?"

"Apparently so. It was on a blue flyer."

"Blue? Who puts an important message on blue paper? Red is so much classier."

Amy raised an eyebrow. "Is that your Gryffindor pride coming out or are you trying to flatter me?"

"Gryffindor pride, definitely."

"Shame," Amy said. She took a sip of her wine. "I thought you had finally found the romantic bone in your body."

"I'm sorry," Charlie protested. "I can't hear you over this very romantic and spontaneous meal I made you."

"Yes this very romantic and spontaneous dinner you made," Amy repeated slowly. She looked as though she was thinking over these words. "You know, I still can't wrap my head around the idea that you did all of this to celebrate something that happened months ago."

"Why else would I have done it?" Charlie asked. He fidgeted slightly and Amy's eyes narrowed.

"I'm afraid I'm still trying to figure that out," Amy answered. "You're up to something Charles Weasley. I can feel it."

"I'm pretty sure that's just the wine, love."

"No, no," Amy protested. "You are most definitely up to something, and when I find out exactly what it is…" She trailed off and gave the wizard a pointed look which he shrugged at in reply.

"Whatever you say, dear," he smiled. "More wine?"

Amy nodded and kept an eye on him as he made he stood up to get the bottle of wine. There was something off about all this. She wasn't complaining at all. The meal really was amazing and the company even better, but there was still something off about everything that was going on. Charlie had something up his sleeve; he had been fidgeting all night and he seemed so anxious. He did a great job at hiding all of this, of course, but Amy was still able to detect the neck-rubbing and shifty eyes. But she would let it all go if only because she was just so happy to be home with him.

"How are your parents?" Charlie asked from his spot across the kitchen. He grabbed the bottle of wine and made his way back to the table to refill their glasses.

Amy shrugged and took the glass in her hand, cradling it against her chest. "Oh, you know them," she answered

Charlie sat down and raised an eyebrow. "Completely insane then?"

"Ah, you know them so well."

Charlie laughed and Amy couldn't help but smile too. She took a sip of her wine and set in back on the table so that she could lean forward onto her elbows, still smiling.

"Well, you had to have gotten it from someone."

"Like your family's any less crazy."

Charlie held up a finger as though to protest but stopped himself, thought about it for a moment, and then shrugged and nodded in agreement.

"I suppose you're right about that," he agreed, taking a long sip from his glass. "They certainly can be a handful." He grimaced as though he was remembering something quite painful.

"I guess Bill and Fleur's wedding plans are well underway, then?" Amy asked. "I'm sure your Mom is having lots of fun with that."

"At least she doesn't have me cleaning the house like the others," Charlie said. "If ever there's been a time where I am thankful that I moved out long ago, it's now."

"Oh c'mon," Amy laughed. "It can't be that bad!"

Charlie gave her a wry look.

"Love, my Mum is a force to be reckoned with on good days," he reminded her. "Now, she's a force to be reckoned with who is planning a wedding in the middle of a war. It's _very_ bad."

"Yikes," Amy said faintly. "Hadn't thought about it that way. They certainly did pick an interesting time to get married, didn't they?"

"Well, I doubt that they thought things would be like this when they decided to get married," Charlie pointed out. "It's a bit difficult to see into the future. You never know what's waiting for you around the corner. We don't know what tomorrow's going to look like."

"I suppose you're right," Amy agreed. "We don't know what tomorrow's going to look like." She sighed and leaned back in her chair, letting her hands fall into place next to her plate. Charlie looked from her face to her hands before reaching forward to grasp one in his own hand. Amy looked down at their intertwined hand and smiled brightly.

"You know," Charlie started slowly. "I've been thinking a lot lately and-"

"That's not good," Amy interrupted, her eyes wide growing wide. Charlie glared at her teasingly and she fell quiet, though the smile on her face didn't fade away.

"As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted," Charlie restarted, "I've been thinking a lot lately about the future and what's to come. You agreed that we have no idea what the future will be like, but I do know what were like together and I love it like you wouldn't believe. We belong together and there's nothing I wouldn't do to guarantee your happiness, because I love you too much to see you in pain, and there's not a moment that goes by that I don't think about you and how you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I would do anything and everything to ensure you're safety and your happiness."

"This isn't another conversation where you try to get me to go live with my parents again, is it?" Amy broke in suddenly, half-teasing and half-serious. "Because if it is, I will tell you again that-"

"No!" Charlie cut in with a laugh. "Quite the opposite really." Amy narrowed her eyes and cocked her head, not noticing Charlie's hand move to his pocket.

"What I'm trying to say, Amy," Charlie breathed, "is that I can't imagine living my life without you by my side. I love you and only you. It's always been you, I just didn't know, but I know now that there can only be you. You're irrational and reckless and sarcastic and infuriating, but you're also absolutely gorgeous and intelligent and kind and selfless, and I love you beyond belief."

"I don't understand," Amy whispered. "What are you saying?" Her voice was breathless and her eyes were bright. Charlie couldn't help but laugh.

"What I'm saying, my dearest love," Charlie continued, his voice soft in the candlelight, "is that I am madly in love with you, completely bewitched, and the only thing that could possibly make me happier would be for you to-"

A resounding crack snapped through the quiet apartment, and Amy and Charlie both jumped, the mood of the room melting away, slipping between the cracks in the floor. Their attention was pulled away from each other and to the next room where they could clearly hear someone moving around. They were standing in a flash, their wands drawn and pointing at the shadowy doorway. They spared each other cautious looks before slowly making their way closer to the door, their wands aloft and their breaths coming and going quietly, as they drew closer and closer to the apparent intruder until they could almost see-

"Why is it so dark in here?" a breathless voice complained. There was a snap and Amy's apartment was flooded with light. Amy blinked as spots danced before her eyes and she could here Charlie groan behind her as he was hit by the bright light. "There. That's much better."

Wait a moment. Amy knew that voice; how could she not know that voice? She stepped out of the kitchen and into the next room, staring in disbelief at the person before her.

"Tonks?"

The pink haired witch whipped around at the sound of Amy's voice, a large smile breaking out across her face.

"Amy!" the witch greeted happily. "You're here!"

"Of course, I'm here," Amy said slowly. "This is my apartment. I think the question is though what are you doing here?"

"I just had to tell someone," Tonks gushed. "I just had to."

"Tell someone what?"

"Remus and I are getting married!"

Amy's eyes went wide and she opened her mouth to say something but found herself to be speechless. Tonks didn't seem to notice, however, and she let out a girlish squeal and moved forward to embrace Amy excitedly. Amy stood frozen for a moment before regaining her senses and she wrapped her arms around Tonks tightly, allowing a small smile to cross her face.

"Oh Tonks," Amy said brightly, "that's amazing!"

Tonks pulled back and looked at Amy expectantly. "You'll be there, right?"

"Of course!" Amy laughed. "I wouldn't miss it for the world!"

"Good, because it's this Friday," Tonks told her.

"Friday?"

Tonks nodded eagerly. "We wanted to have it as soon as possible. You never know what tomorrow's going to look like after all."

Amy let out half a laugh and looked back at Charlie, who was standing in the doorway to the kitchen silently.

"You really don't," Amy agreed quietly. "Oh Tonks, I'm so happy for you, and I promise I'll be there. We'll both be there."

Amy looked back at Charlie, desperate to see what he was thinking but his face was void of all expression. He caught Amy's eye before quickly looking away from her and back at his old classmate.

"Congratulations, Tonks," he said, forcing a smile onto his face. "You guys will be really happy together, I'm sure." He offered her another smile before moving out of the room and back into the kitchen. Between Tonks' words of excitement, Amy could hear the clank of dishes as Charlie began to clear up their dinner, and the witch couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment despite the happiness that her dear friend seemed to exude.

…..

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>Muwhahahaha. Love you guys.

Peace out, girl scouts.

WiseGirl2772


	66. Chapter 65

**AN:** Greetings all! Here's the next installment of this long, rather boring story. I've been trying to get this out all week, but I kept getting distracted or falling asleep, or I've actually been trying to work on my summer assignments, but screw homework! I'm a straight A student, and it's the summer. So, suck it teachers. I'm rebelling.

I actually spent all day on this. In between watching clips of my favorite TV couples and listening to Pandora and the entire Les Mis and August Rush soundtrack, I have produced the longest chapter yet. Here's the funny part: don't actually like this chapter. It's actually a filler, but it's a 10,000 word filler, so enjoy.

**Dedication:** Um... I don't know. Make something up. I'm tired.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

* * *

><p>Amy stood to the side and cocked her head, admiring the figure in the mirror. The dress was an off-color white complete with lacy layers, a square neckline, and long sleeves of lace. Her hair was done in bouncy, rich brown curls and she was smiling brightly at her reflection. Today was the day. Today was <em>the <em>day.

"You know, I don't think brown is the right color."

And in a flash, the brown curls turned to their normal bright pink, and Amy caught Tonks' eye and gave the bride a bright smile.

"I think you were right," Amy said softly. "You look beautiful, Dora, you really do."

Tonks smiled brightly. "Thank you," she said. "You don't look bad yourself."

"You know me," Amy smiled. "I do what I do."

There was a knock on the door and the two witches turned to look as the door opened. Andromeda peeked her head into the room and smiled brightly at her daughter and friend.

"It's time, Dora," Andromeda said, sniffling quietly. "We're all waiting for you." She gave the girls another smile before shutting the door behind her, still sniffling quietly.

Tonks turned away from the mirror to look at Amy. She smiled brightly, her grin breaking her face in two, and shrugged her shoulders.

"I guess it's time," she said. She looked over her shoulder at her reflection in the mirror, admiring her dress and adjusting the skirt once more, before looking back at Amy, who smiled softly at her. Tonks gave another excited smile before making her way towards the door and her future husband. There was a bounce in her step and Amy could tell that she was more excited than nervous. Amy remained in the room for a minute longer, staring impassively at the now empty mirror.

"I guess it is," Amy murmured. She looked down at her bare hand, and thought back to that moment just a few nights ago. Damn that Tonks. Amy loved the witch, there was no doubt about that, but she couldn't have waited just five minutes more? Or even waited until the next day? Amy was sure that they would have needed time to… celebrate the rest of their anniversary. Amy had felt it coming. She could tell that it was on the tip of his tongue… or at least she thought it was.

Amy let out a breathy laugh and shook her head, running a hand through her tamed curls in exasperation. She was driving herself crazy and she was probably just making it all up anyway. He couldn't possibly have been… no, she was making things up. She had been under so much stress as of late and things were just so crazy. She was just getting her hopes up and the worst thing she could possibly do was get her hopes up on the brink of a war. And if he had really been about to propose to her, wouldn't he have done it by now? Surely he knew that she didn't require a marriage proposal to be over a fancy dinner or on a special day or something like that. No matter where he proposed or when he proposed it would be romantic and perfect and spontaneous and magical simply because it was Charlie Weasley and she loved him beyond belief. If he had been about to propose that night then he would have done it by now, and the simple fact that he hadn't yet told Amy that she was making this all up.

There was another knock on the door and Amy looked up to see Charlie peering through a crack in the doorway. She gave him a small smile and gestured for him to come in. He pushed the door open and stepped into the room hesitantly. He was wearing a set of dark dress robes and his blue eyes were shining brightly.

"Amy?" he asked. "Are you ready? Everyone's waiting." He motioned towards the door and took a step towards it but stopped when he saw that she hadn't moved. She had looked away from him and was staring at her reflection in the mirror, remembering briefly the image of the brunette in the wedding dress. She didn't say anything for a moment and Charlie didn't know what to say in the silence that followed.

What he did know, however, was that the image of them standing together in the mirror filled him with happiness and excitement. Standing there with her, content and joyful to simply be at her side, was almost more than his heart could take. It foretold the years to come and excited him to no end, to know that eventually this would be their future. They would have their day where he would wait anxiously for her with bated breath, knowing that it would be one of the happiest days of their lives, and that the moment he saw her, his breath would vanish because she would be the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on. Screw dragons - she was what he loved.

When she finally did speak, her voice was quiet and Charlie had to take several steps forward so that he could hear her. She was so quiet that he didn't hear her until he was standing just behind her, peering over her shoulder at her reflection in the mirror.

"Isn't it funny?" she was saying. "They got together just a few weeks ago and now they're getting married. Who would have thought?"

"They love each other," Charlie broke in. "Why shouldn't they be getting married?"

"I'm not saying they shouldn't," Amy amended. "I just think it is funny is all." She stared into the mirror, her expression distant and trapped in her thoughts. After a moment, she seemed to come to her senses, pulling herself from her thoughts, and she turned to look at Charlie, forcing a gentle smile onto her face. "I'm just getting nostalgic. C'mon we have a wedding to get to, right?"

She gripped his wrist for a brief second before she brushed past him and made her way to the door, biting her lip so she wouldn't say anything else. Charlie stood there for a second, staring into the mirror where he now stood alone, before turning away quickly.

"Amy," Charlie said suddenly. The witch stopped at the door and looked back at the wizard. "Amy, are you alright?"

She smiled. "Yeah," she said softly. "I'm fine. I promise. Now c'mon, Tonks will kill me if I show up late to her wedding."

She held out her hand towards Charlie, who took a moment to survey the witch before taking her hand in his and squeezing it tightly.

"Yeah," he murmured. "We've got a wedding to get to."

…..

It was a sweet ceremony, short and to the point, but that was very much like Remus and Tonks. They weren't ones to beat around the bush, and their wedding certainly had epitomized that. And they were happy, and Amy supposed that was all that really mattered.

When the ceremony was over, Amy and Charlie stood to the side as they watched the seemingly happy couple. Tonks was all smiles and Remus was the happiest Amy had ever seen him, if not a bit tired. There were few others at the ceremony besides Tonks' family as Remus and Tonks had wanted to keep the whole thing small and close and they had certainly succeeded in doing so. Aside from Amy and Charlie, the only other guests were Tonks' parents, Molly and Arthur, and two or three other random family members that they had felt obligated to invite. Remus's parents had died some years earlier, so they were not, unfortunately, in attendance. Amy was convinced that they would have thrilled to see their son looking so incredibly handsome and whole next to his beautiful bride.

There wasn't a planned reception or anything, and Amy knew that Tonks and Remus didn't really want to have to entertain guests. They just wanted to go and spend time basking in the glow of their horribly disgusting cuteness.

She hated to think that she was jealous of them, but deep down, she knew she was.

…..

"Can I just say that I don't agree with this?" Amy asked from her spot on the couch. She was watching Charlie on the other side of the room, pacing like a madman and stopping every once in a while to write something down on a scrap piece of parchment. "Like I'm totally against this idea."

"Are you really against the idea or the fact that you're not going along?" Charlie asked from his spot. Amy glared at him and crossed her arms determinedly.

"If I say the idea will you believe me?"

"No."

"Then yes," Amy said boldly, "it's the fact that I'm not going too."

"Amy," Charlie groaned, "we've been over this. There's just not enough room for everyone to go."

"But there's enough room for Fleur Delacour to go?"

Charlie laughed. "I really don't think Bill's going to go anywhere without Fleur and I think she feels the same, dear."

"And you expect me let you out of _my _sight?" Charlie turned to shoot a pointed look at her only to find her staring him down vehemently.

"I am a grown up, you know," Charlie reminded her. "I don't need you to follow me around." He was beginning to sound frustrated but Amy ignored it.

"You're barely grown up," Amy argued, "and speaking of being grown up, whose brilliant idea was it to let the twins go on this mission? Or better yet, Hermione and Ron?"

"They are all of age," Charlie pointed out.

"So am I," Amy shot back.

"Amy c'mon," Charlie groaned. He slumped into a seat from her and dropped his head into his hands. "We've been over this again and again. This mission only calls for fourteen people. It's dangerous enough as it is."

"So let's allow a group of barely legal kids go," Amy sneered. She knew she was acting completely out of character, but she was trying to make a point. "That makes sense."

"Amy please," Charlie said quietly, "I'm not in the mood for this."

"And I'm not on the mood to be treated as though I'm incapable of helping the Order," she continued as though she didn't hear him.

"No one thinks that, Amy," Charlie said. "No one would ever think that. No one _could_ ever think that."

"And yet everyone still decides that they would rather have Fleur Delacour and Mundungus Fletcher go on this mission rather than me. You really think it's a good idea to let freaking _Mundungus Fletcher_ go?"

"Well considering the fact that every time you and Mad-Eye are together you try to verbally rip each other's faces off," Charlie remarked quietly, "it may be better that you stay here. For your safety and for Mad-Eye's." He lifted his head from his hands and looked at her.

"I still don't like it," Amy muttered. "It doesn't seem right."

"None of this seems right," Charlie said. He stood from his seat and moved to sit next to Amy. He slung his arm across her shoulder and pulled her into his side. "I get that none of this seems right, but things have already been set into motion, and there is nothing we can do to stop it. Furthermore, I know it would make me feel so much better to have someone here with my Mum. Someone I can trust, and someone who I know will keep her calm."

"And how exactly do you expect me to keep _your_ _mother_ calm?" Amy asked. She tilted her head to peer curiously at her boyfriend. "She is your mother after all, and isn't Arthur going to be here? I'm pretty sure he can handle your mother just fine on his own."

"Like hell he can," Charlie said quietly. "He's going to be just as big a mess as she which is why I need you here. You'll figure something out. I trust you."

"Not enough to go with you though," Amy muttered.

"Amy," Charlie groaned. His head fell back onto the cushion of the couch. "C'mon. This has absolutely nothing to do with your capabilities or how much I trust you. Can we please just stop arguing? Sitting here and fighting over whether or not you should go on this mission isn't going to change anything, so please, can we just stop? Just for a minute?"

The couple fell silent and listened to the motion and creaks that echoed through the Burrow. Molly was in the other room, clanging pots and pans as she yelled and complained about who knows what while Arthur tried to calm her down. The other Weasleys were outside, enjoying the late afternoon sun and warmth. It would have been a perfect afternoon were it not for the fact that they had been arguing for days on end now, ever since the Order had finalized their plans for Harry's removal from Privet Drive. It simply didn't make sense to her why she wasn't going with them, and no matter what she said or how much she fought with them, they weren't changing their minds. Amy was going to be staying behind while some of her closest friends and loved ones went off to save one of her students. It just didn't make sense.

But the days of arguing and the weeks of stress and exhaustion were starting to take their toll on her, and she could feel herself growing wearier and wearier by the minute. And a weary Amy was an Amy who just didn't want to fight anymore. If that meant that she would sit home, twiddling her thumbs, and cursing the name of Charles Marius Weasley, then so be it. But she would fight it, because as weary as she may be, she was still Amy and that meant that she would complain and sass and be as snarky as ever. She wouldn't like it, but she would.

"You know I'll kill you if you get so much as a scratch," Amy warned Charlie quietly. "And it won't be a quick or easy death either. I swear to you, you'll wish you were never born by the time I'm through with you."

"I love you too," Charlie murmured. He pulled her deeper into his side and pressed a kiss to her tangled curls. He didn't turn to look at her, and he chose to ignore the clanging in the kitchen and Amy's irritated grumbling to instead stare out the window into the yard where his siblings were flying around playing Quidditch and Bill and Fleur were sitting in a hammock together and content.

The Weasley family had spent the last several weeks like this, trying their best to enjoy and savor the summer air and freedom. It would probably be their last taste of freedom after all, so they had best appreciate it while they could.

Who knew what tomorrow would bring, right?

Well, technically they did know. Tomorrow they would move Harry out of the house he grew up in, and with any luck, everyone would return to the Burrow safe and sound. No cuts or bruises or lost limbs. But tomorrow was impossible. There was no possibility of knowing whether or not they would all come out of this alive, but they could all pray and hope. That's all they had left now, after all.

Hope and happy thoughts.

…..

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Ronald Weasley!"

The teen stopped himself and turned to look meekly at his mother. She pointed a finger threateningly at him and looked him straight in the eye. The Twins looked on from the sidelines, giggling and teasing their youngest brother, while Hermione stood off to the side, moving her weight from one foot to the other in anxious anticipation. Bill and Fleur were nestled in the corner of the room, making googly eyes at each other and talking softly.

Amy had moved away from the Weasleys, trying to give them some much needed space. Despite this space, she was still able to hear Molly reprimanding her son. The witch was so incredibly on edge that she was snapping and yelling at everything that moved, and quite frankly, she was the source of the group's anxiety, not the mission, _her_ and her over-anxious mothering. So instead of dealing with that, Amy distanced herself from the Weasleys and sat with Tonks, who was gabbing on and on about what had happened since the wedding. Amy wasn't really listening though seeing as Tonks was simply repeating the same thing over and over as she gushed about her life as a married woman. She was blindingly happy and nothing seemed to deter her from her newly-wed feelings. Even the threat of possible death did nothing to stop her and bubbliness.

Yet one thing struck Amy as incredibly odd. As much as Tonks was exuberant and so happy to be married, Remus was the complete opposite. He was more reserved than usual and he was peculiarly stoic for a man who had just married the love of his life. His hair was grayer and there were more lines on his face than before. Amy always thought that marriage made people look younger; they were happier and livelier than before, but this didn't appear to be the case with Remus Lupin. And that didn't make sense to her. Then again, a lot of things didn't make sense to Amy as of late. Things seemed to be spiraling out of control and there was nothing she or anyone else could do to stop it. Yet instead of fleeing from the oncoming doom, they seemed to be running head on into it.

A clock chimed throughout the house, and the heads of everyone in the room turned to look at the clock burrowed away in the corner. Their eyes watched as the hand moved onto the seven and the chimes ceased, the room falling into silence. There was a brief moment where no one moved and no one said a word, and then that moment was gone.

Mad-Eye stood from his spot at the kitchen table, his wooden leg sounding off the hardwood floor. He leaned onto his staff as he peered around the room, his eye whizzing madly in its socket.

"Well," he said gruffly, "we'd best be off. We've got a schedule to keep after all."

He stomped towards the door, nodding briefly at Molly and Arthur as he passed them. Moody's movements seemed to spur the rest of the group to also make their way to the door. Tonks spared Amy a smile and wink as she stood from her seat and followed the others towards the kitchen. They were moving silently, whether because they didn't know what to say or because they were too afraid to say anything, Amy didn't know. What she did know was that she had to say good-bye to Charlie before he left.

He was the last one to make his way to the kitchen, his steps slow and deliberate as he followed after his siblings and friends. Amy sprung from her seat and crossed the room in just a few steps, wrapping her hand around his wrist and turning him so that he was looking down at her.

Their eyes met, and Amy lost her breath for a moment, forgetting entirely what she was supposed to be saying. Charlie's eyes were bright and curious, and there was no trace of fear behind his clear, blue irises. He was calm and collected and he was ready for whatever may come. Despite this repose which seemed to radiate off the wizard, Amy could feel fear and anxiety brewing up within her, and the witch's grip tightened on his wrist.

"Be careful," she said after several moments. Her words were strangled and her breathing tight. "Just please be careful."

Charlie smiled faintly and nodded.

"I will be," he whispered, "I promise." He wound a hand around her waist and pulled her close, nestling his face into her mane of curls. They stood there for a moment, simply appreciating the other's closeness, before Charlie forced himself to pull away.

He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, held her close to him for a moment more, before letting her go and following after the others out the door to the spot where they could Apparate away. Amy followed him and stood in the doorway of the house with the Weasleys who were staying behind. Molly was sniffling quietly and Arthur had his arm around her. Ginny stood rather stoically on the front porch, watching her brothers, friends, and mentors disappear in the fading nighttime.

"I hate this," Amy said quietly, more to the twilight sky than to anyone else. She was still watching the spot where the group had disappeared from moments ago. A hand clamped down on Amy's shoulder, squeezing it tightly in an attempt to provide her with some comfort.

It did little to soothe her.

After several minutes of standing in the doorway, Arthur dragged Molly away, forcing her to sit down and relax, leaving Amy and Ginny alone on the porch. The two witches didn't say anything to each other. Instead, they listened to the echo of the crickets in the ever darkening night and sound of the soft summer breeze whistling through the trees. It was a picturesque evening, the kind of night where something magical and wonderful was supposed to happen. It wasn't supposed to be an evening where they sat in worry over the lives of their loved ones. Their loved ones shouldn't have even been in danger. They should have been there with Ginny and Amy, sitting under the rising moon and the twinkling stars which were just starting to emerge across the expanse of ebony canvas. They should be making jokes and teasing each other, basking in the love that surrounded them and savoring the feeling of comfort and safety that the Burrow seemed to exude. Bill and Fleur should have been nestled together, talking quietly about their wedding and their lives after, and Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Harry should have been sitting in the grass, teasing each other and acting, for once, like teenagers, while the Twins did something idiotic yet humorous, and Amy and Charlie should have been sitting on the steps, wrapped in each other's arms while they admired the goddamn ring that should be on her finger and talking about whether their kids would go to Hogwarts or to a school in America and where they would like their first house to be and whether or not they would want to live in the country or the city, and they should have been planning their goddamn lives together. They shouldn't have been separated, and they shouldn't have been interrupted during that dinner some nights ago.

Amy didn't know how long she stood there in the doorway, thinking about the way things should have been, but eventually she pulled herself away from the starry expanse of sky and back into the Burrow. She couldn't handle simply staring into the darkness of the summer, there were just too many thoughts racing through her mind and she couldn't handle the silence anymore. The silence was just as unbearable as the thoughts and the waiting. But there wasn't much more she could but wait, and she hated waiting.

This was going to be a long night, and Amy really wished that she could simply sit down with a bottle of Firewhiskey and try to ignore the thoughts that were racing through her. She desperately didn't want to think about all the possible outcomes of this night. She didn't want to think about who they might lose and who might be hurt. The mission was supposed to be a secret, no one else knew but them, but secrets are so hard to keep and someone almost always finds out.

Molly was in the kitchen ranting and raving over how irresponsible it was for her sons' to have gone on this mission, and how they shouldn't have even told the Twins or Ron and Hermione about the whole thing until after it was done. She was going on and on about there was so much going on now with the wedding and whatnot that it really didn't make sense for all of them to go. Normally, Amy would have thought that Molly was being obnoxious and annoying, but she had grown to know Molly and she knew that her jabbering was really just a display of her insecurities and the fear that she felt for her children.

So instead, Amy sat down and forced herself to listen to Molly. She interrupted at all the right moments, nodding, agreeing – disagreeing mostly, but she wasn't about to say anything – whatever she could do to calm Molly's nerves. Yet as the minutes passed on and Molly continued to drone on and on as she paced the kitchen aggressively, Amy found herself losing patience. She was typically a very patient person, she had to be to work with teenagers at a boarding school after all, but Molly was really starting to try her last nerve, and it was taking everything she had to stop herself from snapping loudly at the mother. Molly was exhausting on a good day, and this was certainly not a good day, and each word she said seemed to make Amy's eyes grow heavier and heavier, until eventually she forced herself to stand up, startling Molly out of her rant as she left the room.

The family room was dim, lit only by the glow of the fireplace, but more importantly it was empty and it was quiet except for the crackling of the fire and the tick of the family clock in the corner of the room. Behind her, Amy could hear Molly begin her rant on her children's stupidity and unnecessary bravery once more, but Amy forced herself to ignore the heated murmurs and focus on the drawings and pictures that covered the wall. Most of them were yellow with age and slightly crinkled around the corners but it gave Amy something to think about that wasn't the safety of Charlie or her friends or her students. It reminded her once more of one of the many reasons that they were fighting for and what it was that kept them fighting.

It was the kids. The ones still growing up and the ones yet to be loved. They were fighting so that one day - hopefully one day soon - they would be able to sit down with their parents and draw a picture of their family or flowers or a unicorn or whatever it is kids draw without having to worry about a death eater blasting down their door and murdering their family. No kid should ever have to lose their family and no one should ever have to suffer from persecution and humiliation and prejudices. That was a thing if the past or at least it would be a thing of the past. Once this war was over and they were able to sleep in their beds without constantly fearing for the lives of their children and siblings and friends, then this would all be a thing of the past. It would just be a memory to those who were a part of it and for future generations it would just be a story. They wouldn't have to live in constant fear and they wouldn't have to fight for their right to marry who they pleased or for their education or for equality or for their lives. They would only need to live their lives complete with love and family and friends. That was the hope after all. That one day everyone would be able to love without fear.

Amy groaned suddenly and collapsed into a seat, unable to cope with the thoughts racing through her head. She flopped against the cushions and lay there with her eyes closed and her face covered by her messy hair. She just wanted this all to be over. She was sick and tired of all of this and-

"How are you holding up?"

Ginny's voice sounded from behind her, and Amy opened her eyes to find the girl peering at her with a raised eyebrow. Amy laughed meekly and gave a half-hearted shrug.

"Aren't I supposed to be asking you that?" Amy asked. "Since I'm your teacher or something like that?"

"I'm not the one who looks like they're about to fall asleep," Ginny said, making her way around the couch to sit on the other side. "Or hex my mother into oblivion."

Amy laughed at this. "Maybe just into next week," she teased.

"Here," Ginny said suddenly. "Take this." She thrust a mug of hot chocolate into Amy's hands. Immediately, Amy's fingers wrapped themselves around the warm glass, and she held it close to her chest, hoping that the heat would delve inside of her and melt away the nerves and worry. She took an appreciative sip and let out a small sigh.

"This is good," Amy said quietly, "but I thought tea was the drink of the British." She threw a teasing glance over at Ginny who simply smiled.

"Maybe," she said, "but hot chocolate soothes the soul and I think we could all use a little soul soothing at the moment." She paused to inhale the sweet smell of her drink. "Plus who doesn't love hot chocolate?"

The two witches let out twin laughs, trying desperately to ignore the pain and worry that they felt brimming up inside of them. As their laughter died down, the witches fell into comfortable silence. They could still hear Molly pacing in the kitchen and Arthur trying to calm her, and for a moment, everything felt right. Amy could practically hear the cries and laughter of the other Weasleys as they lived their lives in the house, and she could almost smell the next meal that Molly would surely make, and she nearly feel the warmth of Charlie's body pressed against hers. Yet when Amy opened her eyes again, she knew that nothing was right and that is hadn't been right for a long time.

Amy let out of sudden solitary laugh and shook her head. Next to her, Ginny turned her head and raised a careful eyebrow, as she watched her teacher laugh in the silence.

"Merlin, we sure know how to pick 'em, don't we?" Amy asked after her laughter had died away. She shook her head again and took another sip of her warm drink.

"Sorry?"

"Well, I have Charlie and you have Harry," Amy said, not really paying attention to what she was saying. She was just trying to clear her thoughts so she wasn't thinking her words through entirely. "We both had to go and pick men who have a tendency to do idiotic, reckless, foolish things, albeit incredibly brave and selfless things, but foolish nonetheless."

"Foolish is right," Ginny muttered. She scowled down at her cup and watched the curls of steam twist in the air.

"Something on your mind there, Ginny?" Amy eyed the teenager carefully. She could tell that there was a lot she was holding onto, and there seemed to be a bitter tone underlying her teasing and jokes.

"Not really."

"You really expect me to believe that?" Amy laughed and Ginny turned to look at the witch. "You do realize I was a teenager not so long ago, right? Despite my old age, I can still remember, quite vividly if I may add, what it is like to be a teenage witch with older brothers and a stockpile of emotions."

Ginny laughed. "Fair enough," she said. "I keep forgetting that you're useful for more than just Charms class."

"Hey!" Amy cried, unable to keep a small smile from her face. "Watch yourself or I might just remember that comment the next time I'm grading one of your essays."

"Ooh, I'm so scared," Ginny mocked. "You're terrifying, I assure you."

"You'd be surprised," Amy said. "I can be rather fierce. Just ask Charlie."

At the mention of her brother, Ginny sobered up except for a hesitant smile. Amy took notice of this change immediately, and she paused to survey the teen next to her.

"Alright," she said after a moment, "out with it. What is up with you? Don't talk to me like I'm your teacher. Talk to me like I'm a friend or sister or something."

Ginny was silent for a moment before she heaved a sigh and looked at Amy.

"Harry decided that it would be better if we didn't see each other anymore," she told the witch. "Or at least, not until after everything is…over."

"And I'm guessing he didn't let you have a real say in this?" Amy asked. "He just decided for the both of you."

"Kinda," Ginny said. "I knew it was coming. I mean, what did I expect when I started dating Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived? He's always going off on some valiant and noble quest to save the world. He can't exactly drag his girlfriend around with him, can he?"

"No, not exactly," Amy said slowly. "But you realize you're more than just a girlfriend to him, right?" Ginny didn't say anything. She chose, instead to look blankly down at her mug. Amy looked imploringly at her, waiting for her to say or do something, but she didn't.

"Ginny," Amy sighed after a moment. "Ginny, looked at me."

The teen turned her head, and her deep, dark brown eyes met Amy's bright ones.

"You're much more than just a girlfriend to him," Amy assured her. "You, and Ron, and Hermione, and everyone else that he's fighting for, you are all his _family_. He's lost so much already, he doesn't want to risk losing anyone else. I don't think he could bear it."

"I can take care of myself though," Ginny countered, the notorious Weasley intensity was burning through her now. "I'm not a little kid anymore and I don't need him to protect me or shelter me. I can take care of myself."

"I know that," Amy agreed. "And he knows that too. Ginny, no one could possibly think you incapable of protecting yourself. You're incredibly strong and brave and I have no doubt in my mind that you could take down anyone you wanted to. You and Harry are similar that way." Amy paused for a moment and laughed. "Actually you're similar in a lot of ways. Compassionate, kind, brace, witty, I could go on and on.

"But there's one thing you have, and have always had, that Harry hasn't-"

"A family," Ginny broke in quietly. Amy nodded with a sad smile.

"A family," Amy repeated. "And I get that he's willing to do anything and everything to make sure that when this is all over that he still has a family, even if that means making a sacrifice, if only for a little while.

"Unfortunately," Amy continued, hoping to lighten the room just a smidge, "he's a teenage boy and still doesn't understand how to convey any of this, so sometimes he decides to be stupid about it. Teenage Boy Syndrome is alive and well."

"Do they ever really grow up?" Ginny asked quietly. "I mean, do they ever stop acting like complete prats and learn to use their brains?"

"Ginny, you have six older brothers," Amy smiled. "I think you know the answer to that one."

Before the teenager could answer that question, a cry rose up from the kitchen, and Amy and Ginny were on the feet in a matter of seconds, their mugs left, discarded on the table, as they rushed to the next room where they found Molly and Arthur huddled together in the doorway to the backyard. It took some prodding and nudging, but they eventually forced their way past the couple and onto the porch, where they know had a clear view of the horror before them.

A rusty oil can.

There was bright blue glow slowly dying away from the yard, but other than that the yard was empty except for the can and the gnomes who were edging their way around the garden. There was no one else there, and Amy felt a sense of dread wash over her.

"Something's wrong," she murmured. "Something's happened."

Behind her, Amy could hear Molly begin to panic as she realized what this lone can meant and what it could mean for the others.

They hadn't been expecting any issues. They were hoping for the best but prepared for the worst, but no one actually expected the worst to happen. No one else knew about this but them! How could have this mission gone wrong? They had planned each detail so carefully, everyone had been so prepared, so focused, and still something had happened.

"Whose was that?" Ginny asked quietly. She too was staring, completely terrified, at the rusted canister. "Whose Portkey was that?"

Amy swallowed and leaned against the post of the porch. "Ron and Tonks'," she said after a moment. "They were first. And then-"

A bright light filled the yard and Amy flinched at the sudden brightness, turning her head slightly. As the blue light died away from behind her eyelids, Amy turned back to the yard, praying desperately that someone would be there.

But there was only a dirty sneaker, resting calmly next to the rusty canister, and Amy felt her stomach sink.

"C-Charlie and Fred."

Amy sank slowly onto the porch step, still staring at the blasted shoe in the middle of the yard and hating its very existence. Amy didn't think she could ever really feel a deep loathing for an inanimate object, but it appeared as though she had been proven wrong. If it had not come alone, perhaps Amy would care –heck she would have been completely indifferent to the damn thing – but because it had come alone, it held a much deeper meaning. It meant that something was really, incredibly, terrifyingly wrong, and there was not a damn thing she could do.

That lone shoe and that rusty oil can meant that something had gone wrong with the mission, and for all they knew, everyone they cared about was hurt or captured or dead. Who knew a torn-up sneaker could bring out so many emotions in a grown witch?

Molly was still panicking and Arthur was trying his best to soothe her, to bring her inside away from the yard, but he was barely holding onto his own emotions. There was little he could do to try and calm his wife when he too was shaking and wanting to scream and shout and throw things in anger. Ginny too was trying to placate her mother, but to little avail.

There was another burst of light, and Amy raised her head, expecting once more to find the yard empty except for another inanimate object, but this time two shadows loomed out of the fading light and they landed on the ground with heavy thuds.

Amy shot up, her eyes wide and her heart beating fast. Behind her, Molly let out a shout and rushed forward into the darkness, with her husband, daughter, and Amy following closely behind. In the bright moonlight, they were able to discern the tall, gangly form of a young man with dark hair and bright eyes. Behind him was the massive form of what could only be Hagrid.

"Harry?" Molly cried wildly. "You are the real Harry? What happened? Where are the others?"

The teen clambered to his feet and he looked down at Molly, fear crossing his worn and tired face.

"What d'you mean?" he asked. "Isn't anyone else back?"

No one said a word, and the crickets filled the silence of the yard.

Harry closed his eyes and ran a hand through his messy hair fretfully.

"The Death Eaters were waiting for us," he sighed. Molly gasped, and Amy groaned. "We were surrounded the moment we took off – they knew it was tonight – I don't know what happened to anyone else, four of them chased us, it was all we could do to get away, and then Voldemort caught up with us – "

He was beginning to sound desperate, and Amy knew how guilty he must be feeling. Molly seemed to note this as well, or perhaps it was just her motherly instincts taking over, because in a flash she pulled Harry into a tight embrace.

"Thank goodness you're alright."

Amy smiled faintly and gripped Harry's shoulder in what she hoped to be a comforting motion. Harry turned to give her a droopy smile of his own.

"We're glad you're safe, Harry," she said quietly. He gave a jerky nod but didn't say anything in response. She turned to look at Hagrid, who had finally gotten to his feet and was breathing heavily. "We're glad you're safe too, Hagrid." The half-giant waved a large hand at her absently.

"Haven't go' any brandy, have yeh, Molly?" the massive man asked. He paused for a second. "Fer medicinal purposes?" Normally Amy would have laughed, but she couldn't find it within herself to do so.

Molly nodded tightly and rushed back into the house, her husband following after her. Arthur likely wanted to ensure she was alright, maybe make her sit down and have a glass of brandy herself. Anything to soothe her nerves.

Harry turned now to look at Ginny and he gave her pointed look.

"Ron and Tonks should have been back first," she told him, "but they missed their Portkey, it came back without them. And that one-" she pointed to the old shoe and Amy felt her stomach flip and her heart beat a little faster, " – should have been Charlie and Fred's, they were supposed to be second. You and Hagrid were third, and if they made it, George and Lupin ought to be back in about a minute."

Just as she finished her words and just as Molly made her way down the steps of the burrow with a bottle of brandy in her hand, another bright light filled the yard, growing bigger and larger.

"Mum!" Ginny cried.

In the bright light, two forms appeared, and at first, Amy felt relief that this Portkey was not unaccompanied, but she quickly felt that relief die away as the light died away. Harry surged forward and grabbed onto the figure that had collapsed into the darkness. In the moonlight, Amy was able to see that the unconscious figure had red hair, and she followed after the others as they rushed back into the Burrow. Amy followed in the back, and as they passed through the rooms, she couldn't help but notice the droplets of red that trailed after the ground.

Harry and Lupin quickly placed the unconscious form of George Weasley on the couch and as they did so, Amy and the others caught sight of his head. Amy felt her throat close tightly as she stared down at the blood smeared across his neck and face and the bloody mass where his ear used to be.

Arthur was staring down at his son in horror, and Ginny was standing frozen. Amy heard a scuffle behind her, and several cries of anger and frustration, but she ignored them as she watched Molly begin to work on her son, her hands shaking wildly as she did so. In a flash, Amy was kneeling next to Molly, her wand drawn as she began to murmur and cast any and every healing Charm that she knew. She might as well make herself useful, and she certainly wasn't going to be useful standing in the background and looking on in disgust and horror.

She hadn't been that adept at healing curses, and to be quite honest, the running joke in the Wyman family was that healing spells and Muggle first aid didn't really exist. Her parents may be nurses, but they didn't quite believe in band-aids or disinfectant or anything else to the sort. It was incredibly rare to find a band-aid in the Wyman household, but her parents believed that if it wasn't bad enough for stitches then there was no reason to treat it. They had passed this belief onto their kids, and for the most part, Amy supported it. Health issues were exaggerated a lot, and resources were wasted, but she also knew the importance of at least having the knowledge of how to heal. There may come a day where she truly needed it, and obviously that day had come.

There were low murmurs coming from the kitchen, but she forced herself to focus and put all of her talent and energy into her spells. Amy couldn't allow herself to become distracted whatever was happening around her. She knew there was no way they would be able to grow his ear back, but that didn't mean she could just let the wound stop bleeding and be done with it. She and Molly had to do more than that.

"There's a lot of bleeding," Ginny said faintly. "That's a lot of blood." She sounded shaken, and Amy knew that it must be killing her to see one of her brothers hurt.

"He's going to be fine, Ginny," Amy said quietly. She turned her head a bit to smile at the witch. "And a little blood never hurt anyone."

"Is there anything I can do?" Ginny asked. Her voice sounded stronger, as though she had steeled herself and forced herself to look past the blood.

"Towels or rags," Molly said quietly. "Something to clean him up a bit." Ginny nodded and hurried into the kitchen, returning several minutes later with a handful of clean rags and a basin of warm water. She placed it on the table next to the couch and maneuvered herself so that she was able to gently wipe away the blood from her brother's face and neck.

As the blood was cleared away, the witches were able to get a clear view of the wound. Arthur had long since left the room, unable to bear the sight of his son unconscious and bloody. Amy supposed it was a good thing, because even she felt her stomach clench together and bile rise up in her throat. But she forced herself to breathe and focus not on the fact that this was George Weasley, one of the famous Weasley Twins and her boyfriend's younger brother, but that he was a person who needed a stable and capable hand.

A commotion sounded from out in the yard, but the witches paid it no heed. They had managed to clean George up, and Molly was doing what looked like some tricky magic to try and heal his wound completely. She was muttering under her breath and her brown eyes were narrowed in determination, but no matter what she did, the wound refused to close entirely. After a while, Molly sighed and sat back on the edge of the table, shaking her head.

"Mum?" Ginny asked. "Can't you heal it? You can heal it, can't you?"

Molly shook her head wearily. "I don't think so, Ginny," she told her daughter. "Not if it's a cursed wound."

There was a sound in the doorway, and Amy turned to see Harry appear in the room. He looked from Amy to Ginny and then to Molly and George.

"How is he?" Harry asked. He made his way closer to the couch and peered down at George's unconscious form.

Molly sighed. "I can't make it grow back," she said, "not when it's been removed by Dark Magic. But it could have been so much worse… He's alive."

"Yeah," Harry said. "Thank God."

Ginny edged herself a little closer. "Did I hear someone else in the yard?" she asked. Amy looked up now, curiosity and hope building up inside of her.

"Hermione and Kingsley."

Ginny smiled. "Thank goodness."

Harry's answer made Amy's hope die away. Of course, she was thrilled that they were alright, but there had been a brief moment where she thought that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't have to be afraid anymore. That she could finally take a breath of relief and allow her stomach to untangle itself from its mass of anxiety.

In the next room, there was a tremendously loud crash that startled the group, and they all turned in the direction of the kitchen where angry voices were reverberating off the walls.

"He'll prove who he is, Kingsley, after we've seen George, now back off if you know what's good for you!"

There was the sound of someone being shoved aside, followed by quick footsteps. Arthur appeared in the doorway, his face red and slightly out of breath, with Fred following closely behind him. Fred was thankfully was unhurt, and both he and his father were rather pale, even though Arthur had been there when his son had arrived injured and covered in blood. Amy supposed it was just sinking in what had happened to his child. Together, the two rushed into the room, and Amy backed up so that they could take their places next to George. She stood there for a moment before she heard more footsteps from the kitchen and she turned to see –

"Charlie!"

Amy flung herself into the wizard's arms, her arms tightening around his neck as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against his chest, lifting her off the ground slightly in the process. He held onto her tightly and burrowed his nose into her hair, allowing her scent to soothe him. He held onto her for several moments and she trembled as she allowed herself to release the emotions which she had kept pent up the entire evening.

"Never again," Amy muttered throatily.

Charlie placed her back on the ground and pulled away so he could look down at her. The witch's eyes were brimming with tears and she wiped at her eyes to clear them away.

"Never again?"

"Never again are you allowed to go off and being foolish and valiant and noble without me there to keep your silly self in line," Amy hissed, trying to choke down her tears. "Never."

Charlie said nothing in response, but instead pulled her close and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. They both wished they could have stood there for the rest of the night, but a rustling from the group crowded around the couch had them pulling apart and focusing on George. It was the first time Charlie had seen his brother, and his grip tightened around Amy's waist as he inhaled sharply.

No one paid any attention to him, however, because George was finally starting to stir.

"How do you feel, Georgie?" Molly asked quietly, afraid to break the silence that had fallen over the family.

There was a moment of silence in which George dazedly moved to the side of his head, and he wiggled his fingers in search of his ear only to find air. And then finally –

"Saintlike."

Amy looked worriedly up at Charlie who appeared just as concerned as her before she looked back to her former student. _Saintlike_? Had the curse addled his mind somehow?

Fred seemed to have the same thought process running through his head because he turned to look at those gathered around him fearfully.

"What's wrong with him?" he demanded. "Is his mind affected?"

"Saintlike," George said again, although this time the words were accompanied with a faint and tired smile. "You see… I'm holy. _Holey_, Fred, geddit?"

With those words, the terror and fear slipped away from the room and as Molly began to sob, Fred regained his color and Amy couldn't help but let out a laugh in disbelief. Even after all this, George was still himself and that in itself was a huge relief.

"Pathetic!" Fred cried with a toothy grin. "Pathetic! With the whole wide world of ear-related humor before you, you go for _holey_?"

George's face featured a twin smile. "Ah well," he shrugged wearily. "You'll be able to tell us apart now, anyway, Mum."

Molly let out a sob in response.

"Hi, Harry – you are Harry, right?" George had turned his attention to the teen standing behind the couch who inched closer.

"Yeah, I am," he said.

"Well, at least we got you back okay," George said. He wiped away an imaginary brow of sweat in mock relief. "Why aren't Ron and Bill huddled round my sickbed? I see that Charlie is a bit too occupied back there to come any closer."

Charlie made as though he was going to send back some snippy retort to his brother, but Molly cut him off, effectively sobering the entire room.

"They're not back yet, George," she said softly. George's smile fell, and as it slipped away, so did Ginny and Harry, who made their way through the kitchen and to the backyard. It was clear that Molly could really use some time alone with the Twins, so Amy and Charlie also left the room quietly. There would be time later for Charlie to sit with his brothers, but for now he wanted to know that his other brothers would get home safe. He was half-way out the door when Amy stopped him.

"Charlie, are you bleeding?"

He turned to look at Amy, who was staring wide-eyed at his side, and when he glanced down, he saw that there was in fact a stain of blood seeping through his shirt.

"Maybe?" he said faintly. He closed his eyes as though expecting Amy to throw a rage and attack him, but instead, he heard a sigh quietly.

"Sit down," she said softly. He opened his eyes to see her pointing at one of the chairs to the kitchen table.

"There's really no need, Amy, I swear it's just – "

"Sit down, Charlie."

Amy's eyes flashed dangerously, and he didn't dare question her this time. He instead quickly settled himself into one of the rickety chairs and watched as Amy made her way around the kitchen, gathering a rag and a small bowl of hot water. She set the materials down on the table and sat next to him. Amy gingerly pulled at his shirt, trying to pull it away from the wound, and she finally lifted it up, not entirely of course, but just enough so that she could clearly see the gash in his side.

"Hold this," she ordered, and Charlie did as she said. He turned his head slightly so he could watch her as she worked, taking note of each of her motions. He watched her dip the end of the rag into the warm water before turning her attention back to his side. The gash wasn't deep and it didn't look as though it would be too incredibly complex to heal. Yet she was incredibly gentle and careful as she dabbed at the wound, slowly but deliberately wiping away the blood. It took him several minutes to realize her hand was shaking, and only several seconds after that to realize her shoulders were shaking too.

"Amy?" he asked softly. "Amy, what's wrong?" She ignored him and continued to wipe at his bloody skin, but he grabbed her hand and drew it into his lap. "C'mon Amy, look at me."

Her shoulders jerked a little and she looked up at him expectantly. Her jaw was trembling and a fear tears had welled up and over and were now streaming down her cheeks.

"Hey," he murmured softly. "Hey, don't cry. Everything's alright, everything's fine, okay?" Amy shook her head and bit her lip as a few more tears spilled over.

"You promised you'd be careful," she murmured painfully. "You promised." Her words were choked and caught in her throat.

Ignoring the fact that his side was still coated in blood, Charlie drew the witch closer until she was sitting on the very edge of her seat – practically in his lap – and wrapped his arms around her. Amy in response gripped his t-shirt tightly ignoring the fact that his blood was slowly but surely seeping into her own shirt. She just needed to feel his warmth, just for a moment. That's all she needed.

"I'm sorry," she muttered after a few minutes. She drew back carefully and sniffled loudly. "I really am sorry. I don't mean to act like a complete nutter, it's just that when that Portkey came back and you weren't with it, I started thinking the worst, and then when I saw the blood, I just –"

"I get it," Charlie interrupted. "You were scared, there's no reason to apologize for that. You were scared and you were concerned. Don't ever apologize for caring." Amy sniffled a little more, and shut her eyes, basking in his warmth for a moment more before she pulled away.

"Okay," she said, forcing a smile onto her face. "Let's get you cleaned up and healed." She tucked a stray curl behind her ear before focusing on Charlie's side. She pushed her emotions aside and forced herself to concentrate on healing his side completely. It wouldn't do to have the wound getting infected in a few days' time because she had made some silly error.

As she was working, there was a sound of loud rustling and squeals from the yard, and the couple assumed that another duo had returned. They waited a moment to see if anyone would be rushed into the house to be healed, but no one entered the kitchen. Through the chaos, they were able to hear a joyful "Remus!" and when no one passed through the room, they let out twin sighs of relief. If no one was coming through, that meant no one was hurt, and the only person they knew who would ever cry out Remus' name with such joy was Tonks, which also meant that she and Ron were back safely.

It was just as Amy was putting the finishing touches on Charlie's wound that Molly and Arthur rushed from the sitting room in search of their youngest son, Ginny following in their wake. Charlie waited until they had left the room, leaving Amy and him alone once more before he leaned in to press a fierce yet gentle kiss to Amy's lips. She was taken aback, not expecting him to be kissing her when one of his brothers was lying injured in the next room and another one of his brothers was still missing. Nonetheless, she pressed herself a little closer and placed a hand on his arm, gripping it tightly as he moved his lips over hers.

When they both felt as though their lungs would burst, they pulled away and greedily sucked in air.

"What was that for?" Amy whispered breathily. She eyed the wizard in the low light of the kitchen.

"That was a thank you," he whispered back. "Thank you for healing me, and for keeping Mum relatively calm, and thank you for staying behind tonight. I don't think I would have been able to concentrate if you had been out there."

"Mmm," Amy said softly, thinking back to how much she had been cursing him earlier for leaving her behind, "You're welcome, I suppose."

Charlie leaned forward a place a chaste kiss on Amy's cheek, just catching the corner of her lips before he stood and offered her a hand up. She took it and stood, placing the bloodied rag next to the bowl of bloody water, but she did not let go of his hand. Instead, she allowed him to lead her to the backdoor.

As they stepped out onto the porch, there was a sudden rush of air and wind, and Amy and Charlie watched on as a thestral appeared in the dark of the night and landed in the yard. They stood on the steps of the porch as Bill and Fleur dismounted the winged creature, thankfully unhurt.

"Bill!" Molly cried, wildly running forward to embrace her eldest. "Thank God, thank God – "

She wrapped him tightly in her arms, clutching him desperately to her, and for a moment, Amy thought everything was going to be fine. The kids were all back, and her friends were safe, and Mad-Eye and Mundungus would be back soon, because it was Mad-Eye and there wasn't a goddamn thing he wasn't capable of and –

"Mad-Eye's dead."

…..

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Don't forget to review! I've gotten some really lovely reviews about what people thought from the last chapter. I quite enjoy people telling me I'm a terrible person and that I should go to hell (actually though, I think it's humorous in this context), so keep it up, while I prepare myself for the flurry of angry messages that will await me in the upcoming chapters... ooohhh foreshadowing/plot-twist/_get-excited-I'm-channeling-my-inner-Steven-Moffat_. (!)

Peace out, girl scouts!

WiseGirl


	67. Chapter 66

**AN:** Greetings again, and... HAPPY TWO YEAR ANNIVERSARY! It's been two years since I started this little story, and I must say that I am very proud and very grateful for you, my dear readers. You're the reason I've kept writing and so I really have you to thank for getting me to this point. More followers than I can count, more reviews than I ever thought possible, and as of today, over **300,000** words. I mean... really? What's wrong with you guys? Surely there are better stories out there for you to read, so really I am flattered and I am thankful to each and every one of you for getting me this far.

**Dedication**: To my reviews of the past year:

xXMizz Alec VolutriXx, ashleybett, NerdyPassionLoves, Evanescencefan97, XOXMaximumcullenXOX, BookyGurl, weasleytwins12, NotSoAngelAnymore, Spirited Mare, leafstone, hogwartswonderland, Kiarra24, teragram143, sarachmichellegellarfan1, Bellatrix And The Dark Lord, beba78, Lela-of-Bast, Tashi and the Black Bumble Bee, earthlover8815, Jane, ArchadianRose, Alicia Spinnet, GoldenGyrfalcon, Brb bbe, ForgeandGred4Ever, RamFan, hpfreakofalltime16, Ginga no Yousei, danceegirl92, sceneyfaith, x3sYellowie, BlackCat718, NotSoAngelAnymore, fantasyluver714, Yougurholic, consultingphangirl, Beloved Daughter, Dustfinger's cheering section, polandATEmyTACOS, Marianne 16, seaotter99, BunnyMooMooMonster, thestargazer7, livvixxx, Earthtoleigh, deant33, skystar234, 112233, sapurplemonkey, Random Person with No Name, and last, but certainly not least, Dragonloves.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

Now, on with show. Enjoy...

_(Cue evil laughter?)_

* * *

><p>Amy didn't remember much more of the night of the mission. She remembered the silence and then the tears and then the Firewhiskey, but she couldn't for the life of her remember who said what or even what was said. It was all one very large, confusing blur which ended with Amy sneaking into Charlie's room in the middle of the night and crawling under the covers with him. She was supposed to be staying in Ginny's room with Hermione, but the room was much too crowded and much too hot, and every time she closed her eyes, images of Moody and his Mad-Eye falling through the air flashed by. She couldn't sleep and rather than going downstairs and staying up all night over a glass of Firewhiskey and staring absently out the window, she chose to crawl into Charlie's arm. At least she could look for some semblance of comfort and normalcy there.<p>

Charlie, of course, didn't even wake up. He, Bill, and Remus had gone out soon after the others had returned to go in search of Mad-Eye's body, but to no avail. They planned to go back later, perhaps when it was brighter and they could make better sense of what had happened, but there was little they could do in the dark. They had been exhausted by the time they got back. The adrenaline from earlier had worn away and the men were left in worn out shells of their selves. They had been eager to get to bed, and Molly had encouraged all of them to do the same.

"You'll be no help dead on your feet," she told them as she ushered them up the stairs and to their respectable rooms. She had insisted that Amy stay as well, and no one had enough strength or energy to argue with her, so they allowed themselves to be herded into bed, until one-by-one they all succumbed to sleep. Except for Amy, of course. She lay awake for some time, until the urge and need to be in Charlie's arms overcame her and she slipped from her cot in the corner and stumbled across the hall and up a flight of stairs to Charlie's room. From her time spent recovering in the Burrow, the witch knew which stairs creaked the loudest and what spots would be loud enough to wake the entire house, and so she carefully sneaked up the stairs and into Charlie's room.

His room was, thankfully, cooler than Ginny's, and Charlie's arms provided much more comfort to Amy than any pillow or blanket ever could. She found falling asleep much easier here than anywhere else.

…..

In the days that followed, the Burrow was full of hustle and bustle in preparation for wedding, and Amy somehow found herself caught in the middle. Apparently in Molly's eyes, Amy's career as a Charms teacher made her incredibly proficient at cleaning charms and thus, Amy found herself becoming Molly's best friend. It was a price she was willing to pay, however, if it meant she could spend her day around Charlie and his family. They really were an amazing bunch, and Amy found it miraculous that even during the middle of a war, they could still act completely normal and do completely normal things, like plan a wedding and play pick-up games of Quidditch. She also found it miraculous that even after cleaning for weeks on end, Molly was still able to come up with new chores for her human house elves.

By the time the Delacours arrived for the wedding, Amy was practically living at the Burrow. Thankfully, though, the Delacours arrival did provide Amy with an escape route; the Burrow wasn't built to have the entire Weasley family plus guests living there, and Amy was only too willing to give up her space in favor of one of the Delacours. Charlie had also seemed very willing to escape from the house, but Molly had drawn the line at him leaving, insisting that since he was the Best Man, he must be there to help out. Amy also knew that Bill would've have slaughtered his brother if he left him to fend for himself against his excitable mother and bride. This left Charlie feeling rather aggravated and frustrated, because even though Amy had been spending the majority of her days at the Burrow, it was almost impossible to steal a few minutes alone with her. There was always something to be done and there was always someone bustling around the rooms in search of something. The closest the couple got to being together was when they were seated next to each other at dinner, and even then it wasn't like they could converse and actually talk to each other. Molly was always searching for an opinion from the young witch and Charlie's brothers were constantly drawing him into conversations about Quidditch and the Twins' business and the Ministry.

In actuality, the first time the couple was able to sit and talk to each other with limited interruptions had been at Harry's birthday party. The teen had insisted adamantly that it be small and that no one should make a fuss about it, but Molly had shut him down. Since it was the day before the wedding, she wasn't able to go all out, but she had certainly done her best to make it special for the boy. Or man… it was his seventeenth birthday after all. He was a legal adult in the Wizarding World now.

Amy had been one of the few guests invited, alongside Remus, Tonks, and Hagrid. She would have been there earlier but she had thought it best to get Harry a present. It would have been terribly rude of her to show up to a party without a present.

"I had thought about getting you a book of Charms," Amy teased as he opened the small package, "but I figured that may be a bit of a cliché." Instead, the teen found himself holding a small jar containing a bright, burning fire, which changed colors and radiated a warm, comforting heat. "It's a small batch of Gubraithian Fire – everlasting fire. I know Hermione's quite adept at making portable fires of her own, but maybe now she won't have to."

"Thank you, professor," Harry told her earnestly. Amy smiled and gave him a brief hug.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," she said fondly. She smiled again before leaving him to deal with the rest of his guests while she went in search of Charlie. They had felt it would be best to have the party in the yard rather than forcing the crowd Weasleys and friends into the Burrow, and Amy was finding it difficult to discern one head of red from the other.

When she did find him, she really only had thing to say.

"Oh dear, what's happened to your head?"

Charlie glared at her and ran a hand through his now short hair self-consciously. When she had left the night before, his hair had been curling around his ears and the nape of his neck, but now it was now short on the sides and the front was pushed back.

"My mother," he muttered. "She decided that I needed a 'proper haircut.'" He pouted and crossed his arms like a petulant child, and Amy couldn't help but laugh and give him a hug in consolation.

"Well, it was getting a tad out of hand," Amy said with a shrug. Charlie glared at her and made as though he was going to flounce off, but Amy grabbed his hand to stop him. "But if it's any consolation, you look ridiculously attractive right now."

"I know," he sighed mournfully, "but my hair-"

"Will grow back," Amy broke in. "I promise. Look on the bright side, it could be much worse."

"How so?" Charlie asked with a raised eyebrow.

"You could be bald," Amy said after a moment of consideration, "and at twenty-four no less. Now that would be a shame."

"Well aren't you just a bundle of positivity," Charlie teased.

Amy nudged him roughly in the side and he pulled her towards him playfully, his hands wrapping around her waist. She laughed loudly as his fingers dug into her sides, tickling her wildly, and she squirmed, desperate to get away from him. Their antics caught the attention of some of the other party goers, but they simply smiled at the couple who were so completely and obviously in love.

"Mercy!" Amy panted eventually. She pressed her hands to Charlie's chest and tried to push him away, but Charlie only drew her closer.

"What's the magic word?" he teased, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of her pressed against his front.

"Please!" Amy laughed.

"Nope," Charlie said, making sure to pop the word obnoxiously.

"Charlie!" she laughed again, though this time completely out of breath. Her face was turning red and she was still wriggling in his arms and pushing at him weakly. Laughing loudly, Charlie allowed her to push him away, and she immediately bent over and took in several deep gulps of air.

"I hate you," she gasped. She clutched her sides in protection as she finally straightened up.

"I love you too."

Amy glared at him and stomped off towards the refreshment table in a teasing huff. Charlie followed after her, chuckling all the while. After all the stress that the wedding planning had put on them, it was nice to have a moment to simply laugh and relax. It wasn't even their wedding and they still found themselves running around like frazzled, frantic fools. It would be a relief for all of them when the wedding went off without a hitch.

As they reached the table laden with fantastic food and cool drinks, Amy took a moment to admire the Snitch shaped cake that was centered among the food. She smiled and looked back at Charlie, forgetting that she had been glaring at him moments ago.

"Your Mom sure knows how to throw a party," she commented. She pointed at the cake and then at the elegant decorations when he looked at her quizzically. "It's really sweet of her to do this all for Harry."

"She does this for all of us," Charlie said immediately. "Even when we were kids she would always make a big deal out of birthdays, even if we wouldn't remember them the next day. For her, it's just a part of life. It wouldn't make sense not to throw a party for Harry. He's here, he's family, and we love him."

"Still," Amy said. "It's sweet. With everything else that's going on, she easily could have just made a nice dinner or something. She didn't have to do all this. In fact, I'm pretty sure Harry asked her _not_ to do any of this."

"Well," Charlie said slowly, contemplating Amy's words, "I think that after everything he's been through and everything we're about to go through, he deserves this. He deserves to feel like he has a home and that people really truly care for him. I don't expect he knew that feeling growing up with his Aunt and Uncle."

Amy nodded slowly in understanding before looking over at the teen in question. From where she stood, he didn't look any different than any of her other students. He was smiling and laughing at something Hagrid had said and for a moment it looked as though he didn't have a care in the world. She hoped it would stay that way.

"There's Charlie! Hey! Charlie!"

Amy was pulled away from her thoughts of the young man as she and Charlie focused their attention onto Hagrid, who was waving widely at them, gesturing for them to join him and the others. The giant was smiling eagerly at the couple and they couldn't find it within themselves to ignore him so that they could enjoy their company in sweet solitude. Charlie glanced at Amy with a raised eyebrow, to which her only response was a shrug of her delicate shoulders.

With a shrug of his own, Charlie grabbed her hand and they walked over to the others.

"Hi, Hagrid," Charlie said brightly, "how's it going?"

"Bin meanin' to ask for ages. How's Norbert doin'?"

Charlie looked puzzled for a minute before he let out a loud laugh which caught Amy by surprise. _Norbert?_

"Norbert?" Charlie echoed. "The Norwegian Ridgeback? We call her Norberta now."

"Wha- Norbert's a girl?" Hagrid spluttered. Charlie merely chuckled.

"Oh yeah," he said. There was this look in his eye as though he was remembering something from a long time ago and he chuckled again.

"How can you tell?" asked the ever-studious Hermione Granger.

"They're a lot more vicious," Charlie said immediately, "but don't worry. She only tried to take a bite or two out of me."

The group laughed, but Amy found herself feeling a bit out of the loop and she couldn't help but raise a hand in curiosity.

"I'm sorry," she said when the group had fallen quiet except for an occasional chuckle here and there, "who exactly is Norbert – I mean, Norberta?"

"My dragon," Hagrid claimed loudly before anyone else could say anything. Amy eyed the giant who was beaming with pride. "Hatched her myself."

"Which was an incredibly dangerous thing to do," Charlie broke in before Hagrid could say anymore. "Not to mention very illegal."

"Are there varying levels of illegality when it comes to the trading and selling dragons on the black market?" Amy asked quietly, as Hagrid muttered abashedly about how he had always wanted a dragon. Charlie nudged her in the side.

"No," Charlie muttered back, "but I'm slightly biased seeing as I make my career off of studying and trying to rescue dragons from greedy traders. There are people out there who try and take on training and owning dragons and they don't have the slightest idea what it takes to properly raise a dragon and keep it good health, so hundreds of dragons grow up malnourished, mistreated, and traded around for the pleasure of stingy wizards. Some might think that it isn't wrong to own a dragon if it's healthy and cared for, but dragons aren't supposed to be pets for a reason. They're dangerous and always striving for freedom. It's wrong for anyone to try and take that away from them. Even Hagrid." Charlie muttered this last sentence very quietly. He didn't sound bitter, only like he knew what he was talking about, and after all, he did know what he was talking about.

"I'm sure the Dragon world is grateful to have men like you watching out for them," Amy whispered back. She winked at him, and he smiled, but as he looked over her head, something caught his eye and his smile slipped away.

"Wish Dad would hurry up and get here," he said suddenly, catching the attention of the group. "Mum's getting edgy." He jerked his head across the yard, and the group turned their attention to the Weasley matriarch who was anxiously watching the gate while trying to maintain a conversation with Madame Delacour.

As though sensing the attention of the party-goers on her, Molly turned to look at the others and provided them with a weak smile.

"I think we'd better start without Arthur," she said in a tight voice. "He must have been held up at – oh!"

Amy's hand flew to her pocket at Molly's words, expecting something to come flying out at them and attack. Yet the only thing Amy saw was a bright streak of white that came soaring from over the hill and morphed into a weasel as it landed in the middle of the dinner table.

As the Patronus began to speak in Arthur's voice, Amy found Charlie's hand and gripped it tightly. He squeezed it gently in response.

"Minister of Magic coming with me."

With a pop, the Patronus was gone. Amy felt a wave of relief wash over her for a moment before she realized what this meant. She whipped her head around to find Remus and Tonks in the midst of the Weasley family, but they were already making their way towards the gate.

"We shouldn't be here," Remus was saying as he pulled Tonks after him. He turned his attention to Harry who looked incredibly confused. "Harry – I'm sorry – I'll explain another time – "

Tonks didn't have time to say anything, but she caught Amy's eye and shrug before following her husband over the gate and disappearing with a pop. Amy blinked and stared at the spot where her dear friend had just vanished from, feeling rather disappointed and confused. When she had first arrived that day, Tonks had sought her out and pulled her aside excitedly, chattering on and on about how she had the most exciting news and she couldn't wait to tell her what it was. She said it was a surprise and that she would announce it later that night, once everyone had gotten there, but in light of the Minister's foreboding approach, Amy supposed that Tonks' announcement would just have to wait.

Amy was pulled from these thoughts as there was another pop and Arthur appeared in the same spot that the Lupins had disappeared. This time, however, he was accompanied with a grim faced wizard, who Amy recognized to be Rufus Scrimgeour. As he and Arthur crossed through the gate and into the yard of the Burrow, Amy observed the wizard keenly. The last time – and the first time actually – that she had seen him had been at Dumbledore's funeral some weeks earlier. In that short span of time, his hair seemed to have grayed even further and his face was lined with deep wrinkles. It looked as though he hadn't eaten a decent meal in some time and he seemed to be limping more than usual.

As he entered the garden, the party-goers fell silent, watching him walk past them in awkward quiet. His yellow eyes passed over them as he surveyed them all. His eyes didn't linger on anyone in particular until his sights landed on Harry, who was standing stoically amongst his guests.

"Sorry to intrude," Scrimgeour greeted them in a low gravelly voice. "Especially as I can see that I am gate-crashing a party." He paused for a moment to look at the mass of decorations and the table of food. "Many happy returns."

"Thanks," Harry said.

There was a moment of silence in which no one knew what they were supposed to do or if they were supposed to do anything really. Scrimgeour broke the silence with the clearing of his throat.

"I require a private word with you," Scrimgeour said, looking directly at Harry. "Also with Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger."

Everyone turned to look at the teens, confusion blooming across the others' faces. Amy didn't understand why the Minister would be requesting a private meeting with the teens, and clearly, they didn't understand either.

"Us?" Ron asked. "Why us?"

"I shall tell you that when we are somewhere more private," Scrimgeour dismissed. He turned his attention now to Arthur. "Is there such a place?"

Arthur eyed his wife from the corner of his eye. "Yes, of course," he answered anxiously. "The, er, sitting room, why don't you use that?"

Scrimgeour turned back to the trio of teens who had rallied together in the middle of the yard. "You can lead the way," he told them. "There will be no need for you to accompany us, Arthur."

The others watched as the trio made their way silently into the Burrow, Scrimgeour in their wake. It was not until they were certain that they were deep enough in the house that they all began speaking at once.

"What is he – "

"Why do you think – "

"You don't think – "

"It couldn't be that – "

"Stop!"

Molly's voice rang out above the others, and they all fell silent. Molly threw an anxious look back at her house before turning to look at her husband. The others followed suit and turned their attention to the sweating wizard.

"Arthur," Molly said, "why is he here? What does he want?"

"I don't know," Arthur said earnestly, "I honestly don't."

"He just invited himself to a birthday party?" Amy asked from the side. "Just like that?"

Arthur shrugged, not knowing what else to say.

"I was in the atrium, on my way to one of the Floo networks," he explained, "and he was waiting for me down there. Told me that he needed to speak to Harry and he figured he'd be staying at the Burrow. He didn't say anything about talking to Hermione or Ron, and it's not like I could tell him that he wasn't welcome, he's the Minister!"

"And he didn't say what he wanted to talk to them about?" Bill asked.

Arthur shook his head. "Not a word."

The group fell into relative silence with this statement. They drifted out of their huddled but for the most part they stayed close to the door of the Burrow, straining to hear what was happening inside and ready to run in at a moment's notice. If they spoke, it was in low tones and only a few syllables per person.

Amy didn't know how much time passed, but as the sun continued to creep lower and lower in the sky she found herself growing more and more tired. Charlie seemed to note her weariness because he drew her into his side and let her rest her head against his shoulder. She was just beginning to think that she would be able to fall asleep standing up when shouts sounded from inside the Burrow. In a flash, everyone stood at attention. They looked at each other not knowing what to do, but Molly and Arthur waited for no one. They sprinted into the Burrow leaving the others to question and wonder what the bloody hell was going on in there.

The other party-goers didn't have to wait long for some action, because in a matter of minutes, Scrimgeour came bustling out of the house, his face red and his eyes seething gold. He brushed passed everyone without a word and they turned to watch him clamber over the fence and vanish with a violent pop.

"Well," Amy said quietly, "that was different."

When the trio of teens finally exited the Burrow, followed closely by Molly and Arthur, everyone crowded them. In loud voices, the demanded to know what had happened and what Scrimgeour had wanted from them. In response, they each held up an object, and Harry explained that Scrimgeour had come to give them what Dumbledore had bequeathed them in his will. No one quite understood why it was the Hermione and Ron had inherited something as well as Harry, but they didn't question it. Instead, they eagerly passed the objects amongst each other, examining them each carefully.

Amy took an especially long time pouring over the pages of Dumbledore's – or rather, _Hermione's_ – _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_. These had been one of the first books she read upon entering the Wizarding World at the tender age of eleven, and though it had been some years since she had translated runes, the witch was still able to understand the stories, and she spent some time looking over the beautiful pictures and intricate runes of her favorite story, "The Fountain of Fair Fortune." She eventually returned it to its new owner, just as Molly was urging them to take their seats so that they could enjoy Harry's dinner.

Due to the Minister's surprise appearance, however, they were forced to cut the party short as night settled around them. Molly insisted that they all be well rested for the wedding the next day.

"It won't do to get married with bags under your eyes," she warned as she waved her wand and sent the dirty dishes and cups floating into the kitchen.

As the others made their way inside the Burrow, Charlie and Amy made their way to the gate by themselves. They took slow, languorous steps, and their entangled hands swung between them.

"Are you nervous?" Amy asked as they neared the fence.

"For my brother's wedding?" Charlie asked with a puzzled face. "No, not exactly. Should I be?"

"I suppose not," Amy shrugged. "Just know that it's your duty to get Bill to that altar and you'll have two angry mothers and a part-Veela bride after you if you don't."

Charlie's eyes went wide. "I'll keep that in mind," he gulped. They reached the downtrodden gate and Charlie helped her over the wood, keeping his hands on her waist for as long as he could. When she was over it, he relinquished his hold on her except for her hand.

"Are you sure you can't stay here tonight?" he asked. "I'd feel much better knowing you were just across the hall rather than alone in your flat."

"Is that really the reason?" Amy asked with a bright smile. "Or do you just not want me to leave you at the mercy of your mother?"

"It's a little of both," Charlie admitted.

"I'm afraid I'm going to pass," Amy said. "Molly has enough on her plate without adding another mouth to feed and another body to maneuver around. But I'll be there bright and earlier in the morning."

"You won't be late?"

"Let's hope not. I'd hate for you to have to find a new date at the last minute."

"I'm sure Fleur has some Veela cousins that I could ask," Charlie said with a thoughtful look.

Amy smacked him lightly.

"I'm teasing you, dear," he insisted.

"You better be," Amy warned. "I'd hate to ruin my dress dueling some Veela girl to get my boyfriend back."

Charlie leaned across the gate and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. Amy cupped her hand around the nape of his neck and kept him pressed to her. They pulled apart after a minute and Charlie couldn't help but think how beautiful she looked in the starlight with her eyes closed half-open in the wake of their kiss.

"Good-night, darling," he murmured. "Sweet dreams."

"Good-night," Amy whispered back. She pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before releasing his hand. She pulled away from him and gave him half of a wave before turning on her heel and disappearing with a snap. Charlie stood by the fence for a while longer, leaning against it and resting his head in his hands as he stared up at the shiny expanse of summer sky.

…..

The sun was gleaming joyfully over the edge of the roving hills as Amy Apparated onto the grounds of the Burrow. She squinted in the blinding light as she carefully made her way over the gate that was covered in lavish ribbon and flowers. It was the perfect day for a wedding and from Amy could see everything really was perfect. The grass was a bright green and the sky was a clear blue. There were birds chirping happily and a light breeze to counter the warm sun.

It was the kind of day Amy would want for her own wedding.

As she approached the pure white marquee which was practically shining in the light behind the mix-matched home, Amy did her best to make sure that she looked at least slightly presentable. She didn't understand why she was so worked up about how she looked in the first place. It wasn't even her wedding and she was fussing over her dress, and it's not like anyone would possibly be looking at her when they had Fleur as the bride. Still, all she could think about was whether or not she looked ridiculous in this light blue dress – which oddly matched Charlie's eyes perfectly – that floated around her knees and wrapped sweetly around her chest. She would have worn dress robes, but she always thought it was weird for witches to wear them and plus it was like ninety degrees out. She would probably have a heat stroke. So rather than risk passing out in the middle of the ceremony, Amy chose to wear the Muggle garb and pray to God that she didn't stick out like a sore thumb. Anxiously, the witch tucked a curl behind her ear and carefully approached the house, careful not to trip over her heels.

In the blinding sunlight of the perfect day, Amy could now clearly see how much the Burrow had changed during the approach of the wedding. The gnomes were gone, the porch an almost sparkling clean, and the chickens were stashed away. It felt weird... almost like this wasn't a _real _home. To Amy, the Burrow had been perfect the way it was before, and it was slightly unsettling to see it so clean.

Amy stopped in front of the tall, billowing marquee where Ron, the Twins, and another redheaded boy, whom Amy did not recognize, stood, chatting amongst each other. It took her a moment she realize that the unknown redhead could only be one person – Harry. She knew there had been talk of disguising Harry for the wedding, but she hadn't been sure they would go through with it. Until now, of course.

They had their backs to her, and from what she gathered, they were complaining about the wedding and, of course, their mother. From what she gathered, Molly was acting like all mothers whose child was getting married. Why the Weasley children were acting so surprised, especially seeing as this was the first wedding for any of her children, Amy didn't know. Amy's mom had reacted the exact same way towards Rose and Dave when they were getting married; it was just what mothers did. There was no reasoning behind it whatsoever, and with six more weddings to go in the Weasley clan, they had better get used to it.

"When I get married," one of the twins was saying, "I won't be bothering with any of this nonsense. You can all wear what you like, and I'll put a full Body-Bind Curse on Mum until it's all over."

"I highly doubt your Mother would appreciate that, Mr. Weasley," Amy interrupted. The boys turned to look at her, and the Twins' infamous mischievous grins spread across their faces. Ron and the disguised Harry looked on in amusement.

"Ah, but just you wait Professor-" George started.

His tone had Amy looking at them inquisitively, and at the sight of their impish grins, her eyes narrowed dangerously. She truly didn't like that look. Not one bit.

"Until you and dear old Charlie-" Fred continued.

"Tie the knot-"

The Twins grinned as Amy rubbed her arm embarrassedly, her cheeks turning red at their suggestive tones. She bit her lip to stop herself from cutting them off with a snippy retort. The others in the group began to chuckle and smile at their professor.

"Mum'll have a field day," the Twins concluded in unison, grinning smugly, proud that they were still able to embarrass their old Charms teacher. "And you'll want to do the same thing!"

"Very funny boys," Amy replied in a flat and bored voice, hoping that her apparent nonchalance would put them off her case. She had gotten use to the Twins making jokes at her and Charlie's expense, but it was still just a tad bit embarrassing. Her life would be ruined if the Twins were ever to meet her siblings. The havoc they would wreak on her life would be unbearable. She would have to hide away somewhere, perhaps under a rock or in Switzerland.

Ron and Harry, laughed heartily at the professor, and before she knew all four of them were laughing at her. Amy simply rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in mock irritation.

"Har, har, har," Amy said blandly. "So very funny."

As their laughter died down, George looked passed Amy's shoulder. "Oh blimey, brace yourselves – here they come, look."

Amy turned to face the guests who were now approaching the tent, all of them dressed in their wedding finery and chattering amongst themselves. As she watched, more and more wizards and witches appeared on the hills around the house as they Apparated onto the grounds of the Burrow.

"Well," Amy started, turning back to the redheads, "have fun with that. I'm going to head to my seat now. Try not to do anything stupid, yeah?"

"Us, professor?" George asked. "Do something stupid? Would you listen to this, Fred! She thinks we're going to do something stupid!" He laughed and nudged his twin in the side but Fred was too distracted by the approach of a pair of pretty blondes. George followed his line of sight and fell silent, ogling the approaching girls very obviously. Just as George was about to step forward, Fred darted past him and over to the girls leaving his Twin to deal with a couple of middle aged witches, Ron with an elderly man, and Harry was left with an older couple.

Having been forced to listen to Molly fuss over the seating chart for weeks on end now, Amy knew where her seat was, and so she didn't wait for one of the boys to show her.

As the witch sat in her seat, which was just a few rows back from the front, she took the opportunity to ponder her thoughts and take a quick breather. What the Twins had said was stuck in her mind and despite all her attempts to admire the decorations of the tent, she simply couldn't shake what they had said from her thoughts.

Did they really think that she and Charlie were going to get married? They had been joking after all… right? She never expected someone from his family to say anything to her about it, except perhaps Molly but that was mostly because she was determined to marry her kids off as quickly as possible. Did this mean that they thought she was Weasley worthy? There, of course, had been that terribly awkward conversation between Amy and Molly after her kidnapping, but that was one person, and Molly seemed to care more about marrying her kids off than anything else really. Aside from the Twins and other Weasley children, did Charlie think she was Weasley worthy? Did he think at all that he could spend the rest of his life with her? There had been that moment that dinner a few weeks ago where she was convinced he had been about to propose, but she didn't know that for sure.

Amy rubbed her forehead tiredly, groaning quietly and she shut her eyes against the bright light of the morning. Despite the fact that it was still very early in the day, the witch felt as though she hadn't slept a wink in weeks. Trust the Twins to exhaust her in a matter of seconds.

"Hey love." A voice from behind her broke through her thoughts while at the same time sending shivers down her spine. Amy opened her eyes before turning in her seat. At first she was greeted by the blinding light of the sun from in the back of the tent but when she looked up at Charlie who was standing behind her in his dress robes.

"Hey," Amy said brightly, standing up and embracing Charlie gently. When she pulled away, Charlie placed a loving kiss on her lips, his fingertips gently tracing the edge of her jaw before pulling away. He let his hands stray to her upper arms as he held her close and looked down at her dress. He smiled happily at the witch, leaning close to her.

"You look amazing," he said quietly, as though it were for her ears only to know how beautiful he found her. Amy's face broke into a soft grin, and she found herself loving the wizard even more. She hadn't realized that was even possible.

"Thanks," she replied, allowing her hands to trail their way up his robes and to his chest. "You don't look so bad yourself." She tugged lightly on the lapels of his clothes and Charlie snorted at her comment, looking down at her smugly.

"Right," he smirked, "I know you think I'm devilishly handsome."

"Oh, I don't know" Amy teased, "Your hair is a bit too short for my tastes." Charlie growled darkly at the comment, but before he could retort and go off in a rant about how his mother had forced him to cut his hair, Amy pulled him down into a slow kiss, her lips moving passionately over his. Sure, she knew it was rather inappropriate, especially at a wedding, but the look on Charlie's face was just completely irresistible and the witch couldn't help herself. The wizard's hands traveled down from Amy's arms to her waist and he held her close, loving the feel of her lips against his.

They only broke apart after an aged and cracked voice made a loud comment about how it wasn't surprising there were so many Weasleys with the way the men and their women acted so promiscuous, and in public no less. Amy pulled away from him immediately, her cheeks turning bright red.

Standing behind the couple was a beaky nosed witch with a bright pink, feathered hat. Ron was standing at her side, torn between looking utterly miserably and like he was about to start laughing at the look on his brother's face.

"Aunt Muriel," Charlie said in a tight voice, "lovely to see you."

"Yes!" Muriel squawked. "It is much too hot for a wedding!"

Amy turned to look at Charlie. She looked completely lost and Charlie's only answer was a mouthed, '_Ignore her. Everyone else does_.' Despite her old age though, Muriel appeared to have great vision as she saw this and immediately called him out.

"What was that, Charles?" she demanded. "What did you say?"

"Have you met Amy, Aunt Muriel?" Charlie asked. "She's the Charms teacher at Hogwarts. She teaches Ron and Ginny."

"My God!" Muriel gasped. She seized her hand-bag and whapped Charlie on the shoulder. He let out a groan and clutched his shoulder with a pained expression. "A student, Charles? How could you?" She made to whack him again, but Charlie held up his hands desperately.

"No!" he protested. "Teacher. _Teacher_. She's a teacher!"

Muriel lowered her hand-bag. "Why didn't you say so?" she demanded before turning her attention to a rather frightened and confused Amy. "What subject do you teach again?"

"Charms," Amy answered immediately. She figured short answers would save her from saying anything that would invoke Muriel's wrath. There was one thing she had forgotten though…

"Ach!" Muriel cried. "You're American, aren't you?"

Amy nodded slowly and carefully.

"What is it with these Weasley boys and their foreign brides?" Muriel demanded. "First the French girl and now an American." She turned her attention back to Charlie. "This is the girl you're marrying, isn't it, Charles?"

Charlie turned bright red and spluttered through his first few attempts at a response.

"We're not engaged, Aunt Muriel," Charlie finally choked out.

"Why ever not?"

Charlie spluttered and looked to Amy but the witch had turned beet red and had no response of her own. Thankfully, Ron swooped in to save the day.

"We should probably get you to your seat, Aunt Muriel," he said. "We wouldn't want all the good ones to be taken."

In a flash, Muriel's attention was taken off the blushing couple and onto her youngest great-nephew. "Right you are, Ronald," she said and she allowed the teen to lead her away.

Amy and Charlie stood their awkwardly for a moment, neither one knowing what to say to the other. Way to go Muriel for breaking up a perfect moment. That seemed to be happening to the couple a lot as of late.

"I should probably be getting to my spot, shouldn't I?" He asked suddenly. Amy looked at him, her cheeks still a rosy red and nodded.

"Yes," Amy answered. She looked him over once more, and tugged on the lapels of Charlie's robes again. "You probably should." Charlie's smile brightened even more, and he kissed Amy once more – though it was very quick and barely a kiss at all – before hurrying off to his post at the front of the tent.

Amy quickly sat down in her seat, tucking a curl behind her ear awkwardly as she tried to forget everything that had happened in the past five minutes. Moments later, Fred and George hurried down the aisle, hissing to Ron, Harry, and Hermione, who had appeared wearing a float-y lavender dress, that it was, "Time to sit down, or we're going to get run over by the bride."

Music sounded from around the tent, and the guests turned to watch as a radiant looking Fleur came gliding down the aisle on the arm of her enthusiastic father. Amy smiled as she watched a smile bloom over the woman's face as she came closer and closer to her soon-to-be husband. A husband who was the happiest Amy had ever seen him and looked as though his smile was going to crack his face in half.

Monsieur Delacour passed his daughter's hand into Bill's and the music died away as a small wizard took his place before them.

As the wedding began, Amy found herself becoming lost in her thoughts, thoughts which eventually led to Amy staring at Charlie. For a moment, she could almost imagine that it was her and Charlie in Fleur and Bill's position. She smiled softly at the thought, biting her lip at the mental image, before glancing down to her lap where her hands lay. She bit her lip as she stretched out her left hand, imagining what her ring could look like. And from that thought, it didn't take long for her mind to wander from her ring to their wedding and then to their first home, and finally to the image of her sitting in bed with Charlie next to her as the stared down wondrously at a bundle of blankets and peach-fuzz hair.

Amy looked up from her thoughts to find Charlie staring at her and when she caught his eye, he winked at her, causing her to blush a rosy pink before winkingback at him impishly. Clearly, they had both forgotten the moments of embarrassment they had felt with Muriel as they continued to glance at each other throughout the entirety of the ceremony, their eyes only truly leaving the other as the end of the ceremony neared.

"…then I declare you bonded for life." Amy joined the others to stand and applaud as Bill and Fleur kissed for the first time as a married couple. She couldn't help but let herself glance back at Charlie once more, and she flushed a bit as she realized that he was still staring at her, completely entrance.

He mouthed the words '_I love you,' _and she felt her heart swell with joy as she mouthed the words back to him.

…..

The reception was amazing, filled with laughter, happiness and love. The witch didn't think she had ever seen Bill or Fleur look so happy, and the only person who could compete against their own happiness was Molly, who had tears streaming down her face and was beaming as though she had just defeated Voldemort herself.

As the crowd of well-wishers moved towards the newlyweds, Amy moved away from the other guests, knowing that she would have all the time in the world to congratulate them at a later time. Charlie wasn't as fortunate though and he found himself left to deal with his sobbing mother. He pulled a face over his mother's head and Amy held back a laugh. She hated to do so, but she couldn't help herself.

Charlie finally managed to untangle himself from his mother's sobbing self, and after patting his brother on the back and kissing Fleur on the cheek, he weaved his way through the crowd of guests towards Amy.

He leaned down to press a small kiss to her forehead and weaved his fingers through hers. Amy smiled up at him and wrapped her arms around his neck to give him a hug. She rested her head on his shoulder, and through hazy eyes, the witch saw the Twins walk past the couple, winking suggestively at the two. Amy glared at them and thought about flipping the two off, but she thought better of it as Muriel wobbled past, grumbling under her breath the entire way.

"So," Charlie started as he pulled away from the witch. He tugged lightly on her hand and led her away from the wall and towards one of the many tables that had appeared around the tent. "How'd it look?"

Amy waited to answer until after Charlie had pushed her seat in and taken his own. "It was beautiful," the witch admitted, leaning forward so that he could hear her over the music and chatter of the other wedding guests. "I mean, I've never been to a big wizard wedding, so-"

Charlie held up a hand and waved her speech off. "I meant, how did _I_ look?" He winked at the witch as she laughed at him, nudging him in the side.

"Cocky, aren't we?" she teased, rolling her eyes as he shrugged. "But handsome nonetheless." Charlie sat there and pretended to think over whether this was an appropriate answer or not before kissing the witch lightly on the lips.

"Well, thank you for that," he smirked. "You may continue on with your girly wedding commentary." Amy shot him a playful glare and opened her mouth to begin where she had left off when Arthur came over to tell Charlie that he was needed back with the bride and groom. Arthur clapped him on the back as he groaned, dropping his head onto the table with a thud. Amy laughed before pushing him up and out of his seat. He sighed loudly and pulled at the lapels of his robes in an attempt to straighten them.

He trudged off after his father but not before turning back around very quickly to kiss the witch on the lips. Amy gasped a bit at the sudden display of affection, and this time, she grasped his robes tightly in her hands. She groaned quietly in disappointment as he pulled away. She glared at him as he winked before he forced himself to move back towards his brother and new wife.

Amy forced herself to hold back her sigh as she stared almost dreamily at the wizard. It was only after Remus and Tonks took a seat at her table that the witch allowed herself to be pulled out of her lovey-dovey thoughts and back into reality. All this wedding stuff was really starting to mess with her mind, although if that was a bad thing, Amy had yet to figure out.

"Wotcher Amy," Tonks greeted as Remus helped her into her seat.

"Hey Tonks, Remus," Amy smiled. "How are you two?"

"We're fine," Tonks answered immediately. "Sorry about skipping out so fast yesterday, it's just – "

She eyed Remus anxiously.

"The Ministry has its anti-werewolf agenda out of at the moment," Remus explained, "and I wouldn't want anyone to be stuck in the middle of that."

"Don't worry," Amy assured them. "We understand. It's not your fault."

Remus nodded once and then became distracted by something or another. Tonks took her husband's lapse in attention to lean towards Amy, her face shining excitedly. Amy leaned forward too, eager to hear what the witch had to say.

"I have something to tell you," Tonks whispered.

"Please do," Amy urged. "You've been so giggly as of late that I knew something was up. C'mon out with it!"

"I'm pre-"

There was a loud burst of applause as the band suddenly struck up, and the party-goers turned to see Bill and Fleur take to the dance floor, followed closely by Molly and Monsieur Delacour and Arthur and Madame Delacour. One by one other couples also took to the dance floor, and it didn't taken Charlie long to escape from the rest of the wedding party in search of Amy.

When he did find her, he removed his robes to reveal dress pants, a starch white shirt and tie, and he pulled her up and out of her seat, twirling her around and onto the dance floor that had been cleared in the middle of the marquee. Charlie's continuous swirls and twirls caused her to laugh and she practically had to beg him in between giggles to stop before Charlie allowed her to fall back into his arms dizzily. She collapsed against his chest as he took one of her hands in his and wrapped the other around her waist.

"How are you feeling, dear?" he asked as they rotated in their place.

"Happy," Amy said immediately. "I'm happy for Bill and Fleur, and I'm happy for your Mom, who is thrilled beyond belief, and I'm happy for us."

"For us?"

"I'm happy that we're here," Amy smiled. "That we're together right now and that we're happy." She paused for a moment. "We are happy, right?" She sounded unsure and Charlie couldn't help but laugh.

"I couldn't imagine not being happy with you at my side."

"Now you're just being cheesy."

Despite these words, Amy drew in closer to Charlie and he slipped his arm completely around her waist so that she was pulled flush against her chest. As they danced, the couple talked softly. Not of anything significant, of course, mostly just joking and telling stories, but as a slower song came on they fell quiet and they took solace in each other's company.

Charlie pulled Amy closer to him, and she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and pressed her face into his throat. His arms encircled her waist, the flow-y fabric of her dress soft on his hands as he brought her closer to him, resting his head upon hers. He could feel the beading of her clunky necklace against him as he held her tightly to his chest, and he nestled his nose into her hair, breathing in the sweet scent of her shampoo. Amy breathed in quietly, making a noise of content as his scent, a scent of woods and musky cologne, washed over her and filled her up. She shut her eyes and wished that nothing would change. Everything was like a dream and for just a second, she hoped that if this was a dream that it would never end. She just wanted everything to stay exactly as it was in this moment.

"I really do love you," Charlie whispered to her, breaking the warm silence that had washed over the couple.

Amy opened her eyes slowly and looked up at him, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she locked eyes with him. His blue eyes were filled with adoration and love as he peered down at her, admiring the soft contours of her face in the dim lighting of the marquee.

"You know that, right?"

Amy looked down for a moment, a rosy hue coming to her face, before looking back up at him so that she could pull him down into a soft kiss. She put every emotion that she was feeling into that kiss, every ounce of love and admiration for him that she could muster and more. He groaned, low in his throat at the sudden show of affection, before he kissed her back, just as passionately as his hands gripped her waist tightly. Both of them wished it would never end, that they would be able to keep their arms around each other forever and their lips locked to the other's as well.

…

Wishes never really do come true, do they?

…

The couple heard the gasps first and the shuffling of feet as the crowd of wedding goers parted. Their mumbles and sounds of shock were followed by the whistling of wind which breezed through the tent, blowing skirts and hair out of place in a swirl of colors. Charlie and Amy broke apart with a smack and looked around, their eyes wide and curious as they glanced over the startled guests before landing on the silver lynx which had settled in the middle of the dance floor. Suddenly, the couple knew what was going to be said before it was and their grip on the other tightened desperately as the words resounded from the silver, glowing apparition.

"_The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."_

Wands were drawn before the Patronus had even faded away, and the guests were on their feet as pops burst through the air. Cloaked figures appeared in the crowds, their wands held aloft as they prepared to fire curses. There was a collective moment of silence before the light of curses crashed through the tent, and people were sent tumbling to the ground as they tried to avoid the violent spells.

Charlie grasped her wrist, tearing her away from the center of the curse-fire and towards the exit of the marquee. As they ran, they kept their wands up and they cast spells all around them, trying to protect the terrified guests who honestly had no idea what was going on. They had never imagined that they would be attacked at a wedding, they had no idea that their world as they knew it was crumbling around them. They were ignorant, they were naïve, and they were innocent.

A flame of purple shot towards the couple, and Charlie and Amy ducked, watching helplessly as the fabric of the tent caught fire. There was a high-pitched scream from a witch, followed closely by the scream of another, and soon everyone was screaming and shouting and running around, trying their best to avoid the onslaught of dark curses from the hooded wizards.

In the chaos that followed, Amy was pulled away from Charlie, her fingers slipping from his grasp, and she quickly lost sight of him in the horde of wedding guests and Death Eaters. She looked around frantically, running a hand over her forehead anxiously and brushing away the hair that had fallen out of her once-elegant bun and into her face. She could hear her name being called out frantically, but the cacophony caused by the fray quickly drowned out the voice until it was just another cry in the crowd.

A bright flash of light suddenly shot in front of her, and Amy fell backwards, the curse just narrowly missing her and she knew that she had to focus on the flashing curses around her and not the whereabouts of the others. Drawing her wand from the folds of her dress, Amy dove beside a table, kneeling down in the middle of a broken plate and splattered cake. She spared no thought of her dress which was torn at the bottom from her stumbling and spotted with wine and cake. She banished all thoughts on her own safety and about how pissed she was that these Death Eaters had the gall to invade Bill and Fleur's wedding. Instead, Amy forced herself to focus on the simple fact that all around her people were crying and shouting out for help, and she was one of the few who could.

As she peeked her head over the edge of the table, Amy could see Ginny fighting against a masked figure, and with a flick of her wrist, Amy shot a spell off at a Death Eater who passed by her table. She took pride in the fact that the wizard collapsed immediately, not moving under the fray of flashing lights. Straightening further, Amy turned to battle one of the other masked men. She was not going to hide behind the table for the rest of the night. She had to do something to protect the ones she loved; she had sworn to do so and she wasn't going to break her promise now.

She jumped to her feet, ignoring the ache in her soles from the high heels, and she threw herself into the fray. Dodging and ducking, Amy shot spell after spell off at those that she could. Wedding guests were still running around frantically, bumping into her and tripping over broken decorations and plates.

From the corner of her eye, Amy could see Bill and Fleur fighting side-by-side. Bill was clearly trying to push his wife out of the line of fire, but she was having none of his chivalry. Instead, she continued to duck under his arm, time and time again, so that she could face the attackers head-on and blast them away with a stunningly accurate spell. Behind them, Amy could just see Tonks and Remus battling against their own set of Death Eaters, but there was little she could do to help them from where she stood across the room.

Fire was licking up the walls of the marquee by now, and the heat of the night combined with the heat of the fire was crushing down on Amy and the others. She tried her best to put the fires out, but whatever curse the Death Eaters had used to start the fire was not reacting to her spells and the fire only continued to grow.

A man crashed to the floor on Amy's right, and the witch turned to see a Death Eater standing on a near-by table, his wand aloft as though he were about to curse the now unconscious man. He didn't seem to notice Amy until she had already cast a Shield Charm over the man. When the wizard's curse rebounded, he turned his attention away from the fallen man and to his new sight: Amy. He grinned lecherously, but Amy ignored him and raised her wand again.

The curse was just beginning to sound from her lips when a hand grasped her wrist, spinning her around quickly. Amy went rigid, ready to curse whoever had snuck up on her, but then she recognized the blue eyes and red hair before her and she allowed her hand to fall to her side. Charlie looked at her desperately, relief evident in his eyes at her unharmed figure, but as he continued to look from her to those still in the burning tent, his eyes went cold. He wasted no time in turning and racing towards the grounds of the Burrow, tugging Amy behind him the entire way.

Charlie pulled Amy out of the burning tent, drawing her towards the shadows of the Burrow and away from the bright light caused by the warm fire and the streaks of curses. Amy was panting, relieved to see that Charlie was safe and sound, but she was also terribly confused and was desperately trying to pull herself from his grasp so that she could return to the tent and help the others.

"Charlie!" she cried loudly over the roar of the flames and the screams of the wedding goers. "Charlie, what are you doing? We have to help! Charlie!"

"Amy, please," he pleaded. He didn't look back at her. He just continued to pull her farther and farther away from the burning tent and the fight that was ensuing within. "Please, just go home! Just get out of here!"

"Go home?" Amy repeated. "Go home? Charlie, I can't just leave! What about all of those people?"

Charlie ignored her and continued to drag her around to the front of the Burrow. The enchantments that had been placed over the house to prevent Apparation while on the grounds had been broken with the arrival of the Death Eaters, but he still wanted to get her as far away from the chaos in the marquee as quickly as possible. She was still straining against him, her hand now clawing at his grip, but he took no notice.

"Charlie!" Amy cried again. "Stop! Let me go! Charlie!"

Charlie stopped suddenly and turned to her, and suddenly she found herself being pushed into the bushes at the side of the house, and then her back was against the wall, and Charlie was standing right in front of her. The shadows wrapped around them, protecting them and embracing them from the eyes of others. Amy stared up at Charlie, not knowing what to say or what to do, but Charlie seemed to know exactly what he wanted to say. He gripped her chin in his fingertips, making her look at him before she could interrupt him.

"Amy," he said breathlessly, "I don't care about that right now! They're not going to hurt any of those people back there, not seriously at least, but you? Amy, they're going to be after Muggleborns and I'm not just going to let you offer yourself up to them.

"I'm not offering myself up to them," Amy hissed. "I'm trying to protect the people I care about!"

"And I'm trying to protect you," Charlie countered. He was growing desperate and the shouts from the marquee were growing louder. He knew it was only a matter of time before the Death Eaters began to round everyone and begin an interrogation – or worse. So, he turned to pleading and begging.

"Please, Amy!" he said lowly. "Please! Just go home and don't do anything until I come back for you! Don't talk to anyone, don't leave your apartment. Just stay in there! Please, Amy!"

His voice was thick with tears by now, and despite the fact that she was furious he was trying to send her away, Amy felt her heart clench. She could hear the cries getting louder as well, and the little selfish part of her did want to go home. She knew the danger she was in staying here, but she also knew that she would never be able to forgive herself if she left and someone she cared about was hurt.

Then again, she'd be no use to anyone locked up in a basement and being tortured again.

"Okay, Charlie," she whispered softly, and she saw a wave of relief wash over Charlie's face. "Just promise you'll come back." Charlie glanced at her, and she saw doubt in his eyes and she felt her next words catch in her throat. "Charlie, I'm not leaving unless-"

He cut her off with a deep and unexpected kiss, effectively stealing her breath and her words away. Despite the abruptness of the kiss, Amy kissed him back just as intensely. Her fingers curled around his shoulders, and his hands tightened around her waist in an almost bruising grip.

When they pulled away, the couple could still hear the screams of the others and crackle of the fire.

"Go home, Amy," Charlie said once more. "Go home."

He stepped back from her, and Amy's eyes met his. This was not how she expected this night to go. She never thought that she would find herself standing in the bushes on the side of the Burrow with Charlie watching her expectantly. It had honestly never crossed her mind that this was where she'd end up. Amy glanced over his shoulder, just able to see the blazing marquee before looking back at Charlie. He held her stare for a moment before the screams grew louder. Charlie turned to look back at the tent as well, but when he looked back she was gone.

…..

The lights swirled around her before dimming drastically as Amy landed in her apartment, her legs giving out from under her, and she fell onto the thick carpet, her fingers weaved into the fibers. As her heart began to slow, the pulsing of blood through her veins continued to beat rhythmically through her body and she felt her breath begin to slow. The adrenaline from the wedding was beginning to leave her, and in its place was fear that was beginning to awake in her, eating away at her insides.

She laid there for what felt like days, but in actuality it was probably only two hours, three at most. And yet she never got up to change, never turned on the lights. She just lay there, grasping the carpet's threads in her hands, while she shook. Fear coursed through her body, sending waves of terror and worry through her but she couldn't do anything, not with the thoughts that were racing through her head.

What if he doesn't come back?

What if he's hurt?

What if anyone else is hurt?

What if they come for her, here in the solace of her empty apartment?

What if they never see each other again?

A tear coursed down her cheek, falling from her face and sinking into the plushness of the carpet. Her fingers were idly tracing the wet splotches that were spreading across the carpet.

Below her, Amy could hear voices from the elderly couple that lived below her, the family of five, whose children Amy always wound up babysitting during the summer, a television, honking cars, and whatever other noises accompanied a Friday night. Every shout from below, every squealing tires of cars, every crunching of broken glass made Amy jump, her fingers digging deeper and deeper into the carpet as more and more tears course down her face, before being absorbed by the floor beneath her.

As time continued to pass, slowly and deliberately, the fear continued to move through Amy. Fear that something had happened to the Weasleys, Amy's British family. Fear for Arthur and Molly, who were like her second parents. Fear for Bill and Fleur, whose wedding would always be haunted by the attack of the Death Eaters. Fear for Percy, who had turned his back against his family. Fear for Fred and George, who were too foolish to know any better. Fear for the Trio, who had vanished without a word. Fear for Ginny, who would be entering a much more dangerous Hogwarts with no one to truly watch out for her. Fear for Remus and Tonks. Fear for Kingsley. Fear for McGonagall. Fear for own her parents. For her siblings. For George, Michelle, and Katherine. For herself… For Charlie…

A crack broke through the quiet of the room, shattering the silence that had encompassed the witch. Amy looked up, her face stained with tears, and her fingers curling around her wand. Through the darkness, she could see a figure, outlined against the few strains of starlight and streetlights that entered the room through the window. The curtains were only halfway drawn, and the glow of the lights from the outside world shone in illuminating the halo of red and strong shoulders despite the slump in his usually confident stance.

"Charlie," She murmured, almost silently.

Relief now spreading through her, pushing the fear away and the man turned in search of the faint voice. The second their eyes met in the darkness and the shadows, Amy shoved herself off the ground and launched herself at him, flinging her arms around his neck as she crumpled into his arms. She wound her arms around him, pulling him towards her, and she savored the feel of him against her. The scent that was so entirely Charlie drifted over her, pulling her even closer and soothing her soul as she so quietly whispered against his neck.

"Charlie. Charlie. Oh, Charlie."

Charlie breathed heavily into her hair, and instantly relaxing as he gripped her tightly. His hand ran up her back, up and down as he took solace in her presence.

"I'm here, Amy," he murmured back to her. He placed a soft kiss just below her ear before pressing his cheek against the side of her head and staring intently out the window. "I'm right here."

There was something in his voice, the smallest quiver. The smallest hesitation. The smallest break. Amy wasn't sure what it was, but it was _something._ Something that made Amy pull back, searching in the dark for his face, straining and yet unable to see him clearly.

"Charlie, what's wrong?"

The slightest of lights broke through Amy's window, lighting up Charlie's empty face for a mere moment, and once again, the panic and fear began to set in. Something was terribly wrong.

"Charlie, what's happened? Is someone hurt?"

"No," Charlie started. His was voice grave but unwaveringly decided – but decided on what? "No one's hurt."

"Then what is it?" she implored, her voice pleading. "What's wrong?"

Charlie removed an arm from Amy's waist and a moment later, her apartment was flooded with light. Amy looked up at Charlie's face. Despite the light that had bloomed in the apartment, the shadows were heavy across his face, exhaustion clearly evident, but there was something more behind the weariness. No, it wasn't the tiredness of his face that worried Amy but the lack of emotion. His face was stony and devoid of all emotion. She had never seen this look before. Charlie was a passionate man, he was always feeling _something_. Happiness, confusion, love, anxiety, anger. He couldn't just _not_ be feeling.

"Charlie," she repeated. When he didn't look her in the eye, she gripped his chin in her hand and forced him to look down at her. His normal bright eyes were dark and empty, and the look behind them frightened Amy to the core, sending chills through her body. Her voice shook a bit as she felt fear sink into deep into her stomach. "Charlie, tell me what is wrong."

The witch stared determinedly at Charlie, trying to persuade him to tell her what the hell was going on, but Charlie slipped from Amy's grasp, turning his head away from. Amy didn't try to stop him, and as her hands fell limply to her sides, she waited for him to say something, anything really. She stared wide-eyed at the wizard's strong form. She saw the muscles in his jaw clench together as he mulled over whatever it was that was bothering him.

He swallowed and opened his mouth to speak, though he did not turn to look back at her. Amy felt a flicker of hope burn up inside of her, believing that he would say something to soothe her nerves and allow her to finally feel safe.

She didn't realize that his words would affect her as much as they did.

"You need to leave."

There was no emotion in his voice except for the finality of his statement.

"You need to go back to America. Without me."

Amy's eyes narrowed, as she searched for any sign of a mischief on Charlie's face. Any sign of a joke, some cruel joke set upon by the Twins. She remembered their conversation from almost a year ago. She remembered how angry she had been with him that he thought he could make her decisions for her. Surely, he remembered that discussion as well? Surely he was kidding. She surveyed his face further, searching it for any trace of a joke.

There was none.

"Charlie," she began, her voice wavering slightly, "we've been over this. I'm not leaving. I'm not going to leave everyone I care about to face this without me. I couldn't. I _won_'t. You understand that, don't you?" She reached forward to grip his hand, only to have him pull away as though he was scalded. Pain entered her eyes at his abrupt movement.

He still refused to look at her, but he had no qualms responding to her. His voice was unwavering as he reasserted himself.

"I want you to go back to America. I don't want you here."

Amy's heart cracked a little at these words, but she forced herself to look past them. She knew what he was trying to do, of course she knew. She knew him better than she knew herself, but she couldn't help the pain that sparked in her at these words. This was not the Charlie she knew. This was not the Charlie she had left at the Burrow only a few hours ago. This was not the Charlie she dreamed of spending the rest of her life with. What the hell happened to her Charlie? Where the hell was the fun-loving man who let nothing stop him? Where was the man she had fallen in love with? The man who had been raised knowing the difference between right and wrong, need and want. Where was _that _man? The man who had, less than five hours ago, held her close, whispering to her that he would never stop loving her?

Where was _he_?

And then in a flash, anger and defiance burned within her, pushing away the pain and hurt that had begun to build within her. This wasn't the Charlie she knew, and there was no way she was going to let someone she didn't even recognize tell her what to do. She wasn't going to give in. Not when she knew that _her _Charlie was still there, no matter what may have happened, no matter what he may have decided. This was her decision not his, and she wasn't about to be bullied into something that she was against. Not now when everything she knew was falling apart.

"No," she uttered quietly, almost calmly. "No, I'm not going back to America."

Charlie still didn't look at her. It was as though he was expecting her to say that to him. He turned away from her completely, looking out the window into the nighttime of the London world.

"Amy, go ba-"

"No," Amy cut in, suddenly furious. "I will not go back. I won't. What the hell is wrong with you? A couple hours ago you were telling me that you loved me, that you couldn't imagine being away from me, and now you're telling me you want me to leave? That you don't want me here? That it's dangerous for me to be here?

"Well you know what, Charlie," Amy hissed. "It's dangerous for everyone now, not just me. I'm not about to be a coward and run off to protect myself while my friends and family are left to defend themselves against the darkest wizard of all time. I've said this once and I'll say it again, I'm not a coward and I don't want to be one either. I'd rather die fighting than hiding away like a coward, and as of a couple of hours ago, you stood by me. You supported my decision on what to do with my life. What the hell has changed, Charlie?"

Charlie turned around suddenly and moved towards Amy, who held her ground. She stared up at this shell of the man she loved, who was slowly returning as more and more emotion reentered him.

"EVERYTHING!" He roared.

Amy blinked and bit her tongue to stop herself from yelling back at him.

"EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED!" He was still shouting and Amy could practically feel his words reverberate off the walls and her skin, shaking her to the core. "DO YOU THINK I REALLY WANT YOU TO GO BACK?"

A tear slipped down Amy's cheek. She couldn't hold it back any longer. She had never seen Charlie like this, and she wasn't afraid to admit that it frightened her, it really did. The battle had only just begun and already the people around her were starting to change.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, in anyway, to regain the cold composure which he had held moments ago. He could tell he had scared her, and he hated that. The sight of her tears was causing an irresistible urge to build up in him, an urge to gather her into his arms and apologize in a soft voice. He would beg her to forgive him, and promise to protect her from whatever may come, and then he would whisk her away, somewhere safe where he knew they could be together.

But he couldn't.

He couldn't protect her, not now. Not now that their world was falling apart. He could only do so much to protect her here in England and he wasn't about to risk not being able to protect her. He couldn't protect her here, but if she went away, at least he would know she was safe even if he wasn't. If only he could convince her that this was the only way… he _had_ to convince her, but the only way to do that was to take a step back and make her listen to him. He wasn't going to get her to do anything by shouting at her.

He took a deep breath, a pained breath and started over.

"Of course, I don't _want _you to go back," he said quietly. "I can barely imagine what it would be like to go day by day without seeing you, or talking to you, or at least knowing that you were near. I don't want you to be anywhere else but at my side. I don't want to go to sleep every night, wondering where you are or what you're doing or what you're thinking about. I want lying next to me, I want my arms around you, and I want to fall asleep knowing that when I wake up you're still going to be there. I want you to know how much I love you, and I can't exactly do that across an ocean.

"But more than that," Charlie breathed, taking a step towards the frozen Amy, "I want you to be safe and I want you to live through this hell that is approaching. I don't _want_ you to go, I could never _want_ you to go, but I _need_ you to go." His voice cracked, and his face became flooded with emotion.

"I need you to go back, because I need to know you're safe. I need to know that you're nowhere near any of this. If you stay here, you could be attacked at any moment, but if you go back to America, at least I know you're away from the chaos. That's what I need. I need to know that I'm not going to turn around one day and see you lying lifeless on the ground. "

There were tears rolling down his face by now.

"I don't know what I would do if you got hurt, Amy. I don't know how I would be able to live with myself knowing I had failed to keep you safe. I love you, and I don't know how I'll live without you next to me, but I would rather be alone and have you somewhere safe than for you to be here with me and forever in danger," Charlie said. He brushed at his tears before continuing.

"I want you to be with me, but wanting and needing are two different things, as are right and wrong. I'm not going to do the wrong thing by keeping you here in danger when the right thing is to keep you safe, and I need to keep you safe. I love you, Amy, which is why I _need_ you to do this. Please."

Amy was beginning to understand the difference between need and want herself, and her voice shook terribly as she stepped closer to him.

"Charlie," she choked out through a tight voice. "Charlie, you told me you would never lose me again. You promised that you would be there for me." She let out a half-sob as she tried to swallow back her tears. Charlie looked away from her, shutting his eyes to prevent his own tears from escaping again. "You _promised _me."

"I know," Charlie admitted helplessly. "Which is why…"

He trailed off before taking a shuddering breath. "Which is why you need to go. Because it's the only way to keep you safe, and I can't be here for you if you're not alive."

"You also can't be here for me if I'm not here," Amy protested. She was searching for anything that would convince Charlie that this was a bad idea. Anything that would make him forget this idea, there had to be something she could say, something she could do, but she was drawing a blank for the first time, and Charlie took advantage of her silence. "And you're not the only thing I have here. I have a job, Charlie! A career, and friends, and family, and people I care about. I can't be here for them if I'm not actually here."

"I know that," he told her, looking up at her now with red eyes. "But I also know that I will never be able to think straight if I let you stay here. Even before all of this, it was impossible to keep you out of my every thought, and now, there won't be a second that goes by that I don't think about your safety. But perhaps, if you're away, somewhere that I know you'll be safe, I'll be able to have a single moment where I don't think about you, a moment where I'm not concerned about if you're hurt or not, a moment where I'm not thinking about holding you, or kissing you, or being so completely in love with you that it hurts. A single moment is all I'm asking for, and I know that I won't ever get that moment if you're here with me.

"So please, Amy," Charlie pleaded. His voice was strained and his breathing harsh as he looked down at the witch. "Please, let me have that moment so that when all of this is over, we can have _every _moment together."

A cold silence fell over the couple. The only sound in the apartment their harsh breathing and the ruckus from outside. Amy could feel her heart beating incredibly fast in her chest, each tiny thud so incredibly painful. She hated him. She hated him for making her think like this. She hated him for making her feel like this. She hated him.

Except… she loved him. She loved him so much that it was almost worth every painful beat of her heart. She loved him enough to spend the rest of her life with him. She loved him more than she had every thought possible. She loved him like Elizabeth loved Darcy and Romeo loved Juliet and all those other Muggle couples loved each other. And she knew he loved her right back. She knew he felt the same way, and she knew he must be feeling exactly the same pain she was feeling.

And it was that thought that decided it all.

If he was willing to feel this level pain, for the sake of simply trying to ensure her safety, than who was she to deny him this one comfort? This one relief of pain?

Amy stepped towards Charlie, her hand shaking as she reached up to cup his face in the palm of her hand. He leaned into her hand, craving the feel of her warm skin against his, and she gently brushed away his tears to reveal the red, agitated skin underneath.

"O-Okay," she whispered breathily. Her voice cracked as tears streamed down her face. She looked him in the eye, watery hazel meeting watery blue, and her heart broke a little more.

"Okay."

…..

Amy stood by the door. Her bags were leaning against the wall, stuffed with clothes, papers, and photos; anything and everything that would fit. She had changed out of her dress and heels and into jeans and an old shirt of Charlie's. She had paused while changing to hold the shirt close to her, allowing the rich and comforting scent that was entirely Charlie to wash over her and embrace her. She held it to her chest, trembling for several minutes, before Charlie knocked on the door, urging her to hurry up. It had taken about thirty minutes, but she was ready to leave.

Ready, except for one thing.

Charlie was holding her, gripping her tightly in his arms. He was praying that he would one day be able to hold her like this again. That was all he wanted: to hold her in his arms just one more time after all of this. He wanted her so badly.

Correction: He _needed_ her so badly.

He buried his face into her hair, breathing in her scent once more. One arm was tight across her waist and the other was entwined in her curls, keeping her close to him. He hoped he would one day feel the silky texture of her hair against his rough hands. He hoped he would one day be able to feel her heart beating against his own. He hoped he would feel her lips against his and that they would finally be able to get married and start their lives together.

Amy sniffled against his chest and she burrowed her face into his now wrinkled shirt and he gripped her even more tightly. She hoped to one day feel the warmth of his body pressed against hers. She hoped that she would be able to wake up again cradled in his arms with her nose pressed to his hoped that they would one day be able to hold hands, with their fingers intertwined, and talk about their lives. She hoped that they would live through this so that they could get married and finally start living.

He hoped, she hoped, they hoped together…

"I hate you for making me do this," Amy whispered to him softly. So softly in fact that if it weren't for the relative silence that had eerily settled in the city, the words would've been lost to the world. She tried to say something else, but the words were caught in her throat, and her emotions got the better of her. She let out a choked sob but said no more.

Charlie tightened his grip around her and pressed his cheek gently to Amy's sweet smelling hair. He took one final breath before pulling away slightly, so that he could see her tearstained face. Her eyes were rimmed red and her bottom lip was trembling as she tried to withhold her emotions.

He tugged his hand from her curls and gripped her chin, and he pulled her up so that he could press his lips against hers passionately. He caught her bottom lip between his own, and he felt her collapse against his front as the sparks of fire coursed through them. They felt like they were burning up, but they didn't pull away. Charlie drew her closer and moved his lips deftly over hers, effectively deepening their embrace. She kissed him back with as much intensity as she could, and again she hoped and wished that it would never end.

As they kissed, tears streaked down Charlie's face, mixing with Amy's, but they couldn't find it within themselves to care. All that mattered to them in that moment was the fact that this could very well be their last moment, and if it was, then they were going to make the most of it. Screw the tears and screw the boundaries. This moment was theirs and they were going to hold onto it as long as they possibly could. If this was going to be their last moment than it was going to be something they remembered. It would be something that would carry them through the hell of the coming future.

It would be theirs and theirs alone

After holding onto the moment for as long as they possibly could, Charlie pulled away hesitantly, kissing her lips gently once, before pulling away entirely.

"I love you for doing this for me," he whispered.

Amy pressed her face against his chest once more, savoring the feel of him against her once more, before she forced herself to pull away. She needed to pull away right then because she knew what she needed to do. She knew she had to leave now, while she still could before it was too late for her. If she stayed any longer, she wouldn't be able to leave, not without him at least.

So she forced herself to pull back. She looked Charlie in the eye, trying to burn his face into her memory. From the way his eyes were flying across her face, it seemed like he was doing the same. Theirs eyes were glistening with the tears that had yet to be shed but threatened to pour over in a minute's notice.

Blue met hazel, and she uttered back to him, one final, "I love you," and in the next moment she was gone, disappearing into thin air with a snap, and Charlie was left all alone in the dark apartment.

It took him a moment to realize what had happened, but when he did, new tears welled up in Charlie's eyes. He only now realized just how alone he was and how afraid he was of what he knew was coming… or what he _didn't_ know was coming.

In search of a desperate source of comfort, his hand delved into the pocket of his suit, and with trembling fingers, he pulled out a small, square box.

It seemed to radiate warmth, warmth that surged through the palm of his hand and through his body. It almost felt as though it would soothe his heart, but the warmth washed over his aching heart, leaving it only more damaged. The warmth wasn't a good one, but one of what could have been… what should have been.

His fingers ghosted over the sleek material of the case and it took all of his strength and courage for him to flick it open. The dim lights of the room cast off of the ring's gem, sparkling lights glimmering around the room and off his face. He stared at the ring a moment longer before he couldn't stand the sight of it, and he closed the lid with a snap and shoved it back into his pocket. He swallowed down the remaining tears as he looked around the empty apartment once more, trying desperately not to think about what he had done.

He couldn't allow himself to think about what he had done, because once he did, he would know it was true. He would know the truth, and he didn't think that he could handle the awful truth. Not when it meant that he was alone.

He was all alone.

Completely and utterly alone.

Alone.

* * *

><p>Happy Anniversary!<p>

With love,

WiseGirl

_(Cue angry comments... now!)_


	68. Chapter 67

**AN:** Hello again my lovely readers! I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter as much as I did (I did warn you to prepare for my take on Moffat, didn't I?). Anyway, thank you all for the fantastic feedback, and also, wait for iiittt... WE REACHED 400 REVIEWS! Wowzah! That stuff craycray. Thanks again!

**Dedication:** To my dear Aunt! Hope you have a wonderful birthday!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

* * *

><p><strong>Wednesday, August 27, 1997<strong>

"Order-up!"

There was an obnoxious ding, and Amy immediately found her way to the kitchen window. There were several platters of steaming food on the metallic counter and she spared a bright smile for the man behind the window.

"Thanks Marty," she smiled. She reached out to grab the plates and balanced them on her arms, careful not to spill anything onto her shirt. It had taken her awhile, but she had finally gotten the balance thing down, and she would hate to have to go find a change of clothes. Again.

"Anything for you, doll," Marty said with a flirtatious wink. Amy rolled her eyes but smiled again. She was used to this by now. Marty was the biggest flirt in the entire joint, but she knew he only had good intentions.

With the plates settled firmly in her hands, Amy made her way out from behind the restaurant counter and towards the table in the back of the small café. It was a little diner just around the corner from her elementary school. She remembered coming here all the time when she was younger, and it hadn't changed much since. There were still the vintage red vinyl booths and the black and white checkered floors, and quite frankly, Amy found it to be a relief that at least one thing hadn't changed.

Shaking these thoughts from her head, Amy smiled as she approached the couple that was settled into the booth.

"Alrighty then," Amy said brightly. "Here you go. If there's anything else you need just let me know. Enjoy."

They thanked her and Amy smiled again. As she turned away from her customers, there was a jingle from the front of the store and her smile drooped a little as the trio of women walked in.

"Feed us!" One of the women cried as she grabbed her stomach in hunger. The other two laughed as they made their way to the front counter, and Amy couldn't help but allow her smile to spread back across her face.

"Feed yourself," Amy shot back as she made her way around the counter.

"Hey!" Georgie cried as she plopped down onto one of the stools. "You can't sass me! I'm a customer!"

"A loud-mouthed customer," Amy pointed out. Katherine and Michelle snickered as Georgie pouted.

"Where's your superior?" She demanded. "I want to talk to your superior."

"How about I just get your usual?"

Georgie pouted again but nodded. Amy pulled a notepad from the pocket if her apron and jotted down the girls' orders. She turned around to pass the order to Marty who took the slip of paper with a light hearted groan before going back to work over the stove.

"Hey," Kate piped up from behind the counter. Amy turned away from the kitchen to face the bright-eyed blonde. "You still up for going to Navy Pier tonight? It's going to be one of the last fireworks shows this year. We haven't been in years."

"Oh," Amy said, leaning against the counter, "I do love those sugar roasted pecans."

"So, you're in?" Kate asked excitedly.

"Isn't it supposed to rain tonight?" Michelle asked. "Like torrential downpour or something?"

They turned to look out the window where only blue skies and a very sunny sun were shining.

"Welcome to Chicago," Amy said blandly. "Where everything's made up and the forecasts don't matter."

"I'm telling you it's going to rain," Michelle insisted. "I mean, it's been like this all summer. It's all bright and shiny one moment and then it's pouring down rain the next."

"Oh, yeah!" Georgie agreed. "Remember that night a couple of weeks ago? When we were Grant Park for that concert? It just started pouring down rain. It was like a hurricane or something!"

"Oh God!" Michelle laughed. "And of course that was the night I was wearing a white shirt! I mean, the world really must hate me or something, because…"

As the girls continued to chatter on and on, Amy found herself slowly being pulled into her thoughts, as she too remembered that night. She had heard this story too many times not to know which night they were talking about.

How could she possibly _not_ know what night they were talking about?

…..

_The rain was coming down in torrents and the roads were slick. The rain pounded off the sidewalks, bouncing around her, and the winds were ripping through the trees. On a normal day, Amy would have been surprised that the trees weren't being uprooted from their homes and splayed across the streets. But this wasn't a normal day. So she didn't care about the pouring rain or the fact that her body and bag were quickly becoming soaked, and she didn't even care that she had just Apparated onto a sidewalk in the middle of a Muggle community. She stood frozen, allowing the cold rain to wash over her, washing away the streaks of tears on her face and leaving behind rivers of rainwater in their place._

_It was nights like these that Amy used to love. She used to sit outside on the front porch of her house, just letting the rain wash over her. The water was cold and in the sticky humidity of the summer, it felt so refreshing and like her mistakes and regrets were being washed away and she was starting anew. She was receiving a clean slate, free of imperfections._

_This time, however, Amy didn't feel that._

_Instead, she simply felt like she was being rained on. She felt cold and she felt wet, but more importantly, she felt numb and she felt hollow._

_With staggering steps, Amy made her way towards the white picket fence which turned grey in the night and the rain. She dragged her feet as she climbed the stairs. There was a warm glow of light shining through the veiled windows, urging Amy forward and pulling her into its warmth. She raised a shaking hand and rang the doorbell. There were several moments, in which Amy stood, shaking and shivering in the drizzle that made its way through the roof of the porch. Her breaths were raspy and they caught in her throat as she felt her sobs begin to build up once more._

_Of course, whatever composure she had regained was thrown away as the door opened to reveal her mother, standing in the glow of the lamp light._

_Ann Wyman froze in her steps, not quite comprehending what it was she was seeing before her. Amy had been back with them just a few weeks earlier. They hadn't expected to see her for maybe another year, and now she was back just weeks later. Ann couldn't find the words to ask the thousand questions that were running through her mind, because as the light of the home fell over her youngest daughter, Amy crumpled into her mother's arms, her legs weak and shaking beneath her. She pressed her face into her mother's chest and gripped her waist tightly as she allowed her tears and sobs to consume her._

_Ann didn't know what to do; she didn't know what to say or how she was supposed to comfort her daughter. She had never in her life seen Amy fall apart like this – she had never imagined that Amy was capable of falling apart like this. Her youngest was always strong and she always had a snippy retort for whenever she felt threatened or vulnerable. She wasn't one to show weakness, especially not to her family, but here she was, sobbing in her mother's arms for the first time since she was a child._

_Instinctively, Ann ran her hands over Amy's hair, smoothing it back and whispering soothing words into her daughter's ear._

"_Shhh," Ann whispered, "hush now. What's this all about?"_

_Amy made no response but continued to weep into her mother. There was a creek behind the two, and Ann turned her head to see her husband standing in the doorway. He stared at the duo with wide eyes, not quite understanding what he was seeing._

"_What the hell happened?" he demanded._

_Ann looked helplessly at him, but she kept her arms wrapped tightly around her daughter. They stood in the doorway for several minutes, rain drizzling in and soaking them through. Finally, Alan couldn't take it anymore and he stepped towards his wife and youngest daughter. Prying Amy from Ann's arms, he pulled her to his chest and she immediately latched onto him. _

_Slowly but surely, Alan made his way back into the warm home, leaving his wife to gather Amy's bags and shut the door in the face of the raging storm._

_She remembered hearing the soft murmurs of her parents and the dull noise of the television in the background. She remembered being placed on the couch and a towel wrapped around her shaking shoulders. She remembered her parents urging her to say something, growing frustrated and tired as she sat in silence, except for the sniffle and occasional tear as her breathing slowed and she fell asleep, wrapped in the warm confines of her childhood home._

_She woke several times during the night to find her parents keeping vigil over her but she shut her eyes tightly before they could notice she was awake and she willed herself back to sleep. When she woke up for good, sometime in the mid-morning, Amy found herself alone. She still had the towel wrapped around her shoulders and there was a blanket thrown over her as well. _

_She sat up, the blanket and towel pooling around her waist, and she looked around the room. The television was off and the lights were dimmed. Outside the window, bright, sunny light streamed into the room and Amy could hear the faint chirping of birds. Hidden behind the noises of the outside world, there were other noises echoing through the house. Amy got to her feet and slowly followed the noises to the kitchen in the back of the house. She was about to enter when she heard her name being hissed around throughout the room, so she stopped in the shadows of the doorway and listened to the conversation. _

_"She didn't say a word?" Someone asked. "She didn't say anything?"_

_"It's a bit hard to speak when you're crying your eyes out," a voice Amy recognized to be her mother's hissed. _

_"Are you sure she was crying?" Another voice piped up. "Maybe she was just laughing really hard."_

_There was a smacking noise and a whispered scolding of, "Richard!"_

_"I'm just saying," Rich protested, "I mean when was the last time you saw Amy cry? She's not a big crier after all."_

_"You don't think she and Charlie broke up, do you?"_

_"Don't worry," Amy said as she stepped out of the shadows and entered the room. The eyes of her siblings and parents turned to look at her. "We didn't."_

_She gave them a small smirk as she leaned against the doorway. She knew she looked a mess – her pinned-up curls from the night before were mussed and matted to her shoulders and she could feel the dried tears on her cheeks pull on her skin. She figured that her mascara was smudged around her eyes and she probably had a stain of lipstick around her lips. Not to mention the fact that she had several little cuts and bruises from the night before layered on her skin._

_So, yes, she knew she looked a mess, but she wasn't going to say anything about, and she knew her family didn't have the guts to say anything about it either._

_"Oh Amy!" Ann cried, "We were just-"_

_"Talking about me," Amy cut in. "I heard." _

_The Wyman family exchanged anxious looks. _

_"You heard that?" Rose asked hesitantly. _

_Amy eyed her warily. She couldn't for the life of her remember when her big sister had started asking stupid questions. _

_"Well you weren't exactly talking quietly."_

_"Yes we were!" Rose protested. _

_"Have you ever known yourself to speak quietly?" Amy asked. Rose said nothing so Amy turned her attention to the rest of her family. "And you? Who here can honestly say they know how to speak quietly" Again, they said nothing and Amy nodded in satisfaction. _

_"Exactly."_

_"We can't help if we're worried about you," Ann said defensively. "You show up in the middle of the night weeping and you expect us to ignore it. You're our family!"_

_"Is there anything to eat?" Amy asked suddenly. _

_When her family's only response was to blink owlishly at her, Amy took it upon herself to cross the kitchen, opening the fridge to reveal the shelves of food within. She peered into its depths for several moments, allowing the cold air to wash over her before shutting the door and making her way towards the bread cabinet. Upon opening the container, Amy found a container of muffins._

"_Muffins!" she exclaimed, pulling them out of the box, "Yum!"_

_She pulled one out and bit into it, chewing it with a blissful expression while her family watched on with wide eyes. After several moments of munching, Amy looked up at her family._

"_Yesh?" she asked through a mouth full of muffin._

_The Wymans eyed each other before looking back at their youngest._

"_Are you okay?" Rose asked softly._

_Amy paused, as though to think over her question, before she nodded._

"_Why wouldn't I be?" she asked after swallowing down several mouthfuls of muffin._

"_Because you're eating that muffin like you haven't eaten in weeks," Eric commented from the back of the room. Amy looked down at the half-eaten muffin and shrugged._

"_It almost seems like it," Amy agreed before taking another bite. Her family watched on as she finished off the first muffin before moving onto the second. She was mid-way through that one when she looked up again to see her family still staring at her. She swallowed and held out the carton._

"_Anyone want a muffin?"_

…..

"Amy!"

Marty's voice broke through Amy's thoughts and she looked up wildly as she tried to regain her surroundings. It took her a moment or two to realize that it was, in fact, Marty talking to her and once she had, she turned around to see Marty holding up several plates of food.

"Come feed your friends," he said. "You'd think they'd be about to starve with the way they're carrying on."

The witch looked back at her friends and rolled her eyes before turning around to face the cook behind the window. She went to grab the plates and he crooked a finger at her, urging her to lean towards him. Amy obliged and leaned forward.

"Are they always like this?" he asked. He looked over her shoulder at her trio of friends who were now giggling and spinning around on the counter stools like children.

Amy shrugged and nodded.

"Yeah unfortunately," she said. "It surprises most people to find out that they're not actually thirteen."

"That is surprising," he said as he shook his head. "Acting like a bunch of fools."

"Well, they're my fools," Amy said quickly. She snatched the plates off the counter and stuck her tongue out at the man. Marty laughed at her.

"Oh, sassy," he mocked and he winked at her again.

Shaking her head, Amy turned back to her friends and quickly distributed the meals to the appropriate girl. She settled herself across from them, leaning against the counter. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Georgie leaned towards Amy with a curious look on her face.

"Doesn't it creep you out?" Georgie hissed.

"Doesn't what creep me out?"

Amy raised her eyebrow in confusion and Georgie pointed behind her with her fork. She turned to look at Marty who was humming along to a song as he stood over the stove.

"Marty?" Amy asked. She turned back to Georgie who nodded earnestly. "_Marty_? Creepy?"

Amy laughed loudly and Georgie couldn't help but look offended.

"He keeps winking at you and flirting with you!" Georgie said. "That's creepy if I ever saw it."

"He's old enough to be my father – "

"Which makes it all the more creepy –"

"-and he's living happily with his life partner, Nigel."

There was silence for a moment and then a small, "oh."

Amy smiled. "Fifteen years this November."

She looked over at Michelle and Katherine who were trying to hold in their laughter, but the second their eyes all met, they couldn't hold it in any longer. Michelle snorted loudly and that set the other two off. As the trio of girls clutched their sides and laughed uproariously, not caring about the stares they were getting from the other customers in the diner, Georgie sputtered indignantly and threw her fork down.

"They're the cutest couple I've ever seen," Amy said after she had managed to catch her breath. "Nigel likes to bring us little snacks from his bakery, and I've got to admit that they're pretty darn good. Better than anything I've ever made."

"That's not saying much," Katherine muttered as she took a sip of water.

"Hey!" Amy protested. "That's not fair! I'm a good cook!"

"Only when cooking implies heating something up or pouring something into a bowl," Michelle countered. "God forbid you ever touch a stove. Chicago would go up in flames. Again."

"Oh shove it," Amy hissed.

"I have a question," Kate spoke up. "How on earth did you get a job at a restaurant if you can't even cook?"

"Does it look like I'm cooking?" Amy asked. She gestured down at herself before around at the diner. "I don't see a spatula in my hand, do you?"

"Do you even know how to use a spatula?"

"I'm gonna spit in your food."

The girls laughed again, and Amy left them to their own devices as she went to go check on her customers. After ringing up a few checks and clearing away some tables, she made her way back to her friends who were still pushing each other around on the stools and munching on their food.

"I still don't understand why you're working here," Georgie said as Amy made her way back around the counter. She glanced around the diner hesitantly as she prodded at her salad. "I mean, you're a teacher not a waitress. Aren't there other schools out there that you can work at?"

"Why don't you just go back to Salem?" Michelle piped up. "They love you there."

Amy sighed and leaned over the counter to steal a fry from Michelle's plate.

"I'm happy here," Amy said with a slight smile and a half-hearted shrug, "and besides things aren't that simple right now."

George rolled her eyes and took a sip of water.

"I'm gonna assume that's code for your boyfriend left you, right?" she asked dismissively. When Amy didn't respond, she rolled her eyes again. "Just get over that already. I get that break-ups are messy but that doesn't mean you should let it control your life. He's just a boy. Get over it."

Katherine and Michelle eyed each other anxiously, before looking back at Amy. To their surprise, Amy was still smiling.

"Charlie didn't leave me," she said brightly. "We didn't break up."

"So then where is he?" Georgie asked. "I don't see him, do you?"

She wasn't trying to be mean, she really wasn't. She just wanted to know why it was that one of her best friends was back living with her parents when only a few weeks earlier she had been going on and on about how she loved her job and her boyfriend and British life in general. Georgie honestly wasn't trying to rile her up. She was just concerned about her friend; she just wasn't very good at showing this concern without coming across rude and belligerent.

"I told you," Amy said. She still had that smile on her face although it was starting to grow tight in the corners. "Things are complicated and it was easier this way."

"Oh it's easier to maintain a relationship on separate continents?" Georgie asked. Her voice was getting louder now and people were beginning to stare. Katherine and Michelle looked around anxiously, their cheeks growing rosy.

"Maybe we should talk about something else," Michelle asked, desperately trying to defuse the tension that was building up between Amy and Georgie.

"We should definitely talk about something else," Katherine agreed, but her words were drowned out as Georgie continued to talk.

"Does having an ocean between you two make it easier to love each other?" She asked. "Do you feel like you're going to be together forever despite the fact that you haven't seen him in a month? I mean, you haven't even talked to him or about him for that matter. Just face the facts Amy, you guys broke up and you just don't want to admit-"

"Shut up!"

Amy slammed her hands onto the counter, accidentally knocking over a glass of water. Water spread across the table and began to drip down the edges. The glass rolled over the side and shattered as it hit the floor, but Amy didn't flinch and she didn't take her eyes off of Georgie.

There was a fire burning behind her eyes for the first time in weeks. Gone was the woman from before who couldn't keep a smile from her face, a woman who none of her friends recognized, and in her place was someone they finally did recognize: a fiery, passionate woman who was slowly cracking before them.

"Just shut up!" The smile was gone from her face now, and while it wasn't difficult to discern the fury in her expression, there was something more hiding behind her eyes. "You have no idea what you're talking about, so just shut up."

"Then give me an idea about what it is I'm talking about," Georgie snapped back. She set her fork back down on the counter with a clang. "Talk to us. Tell us what's going on. Tell us what happened."

"I left!" Amy cried suddenly. "I left! Not him, me!"

Her voice caught in her throat as the words left her mouth and she processed what it was that she was saying.

"I was the one who left," she said, her voice much quieter, "but I didn't leave him. I left – I left –"

She let out a frustrated breath and pushed back her air in exasperation. Clearly, this was not how she wanted this to happen, and she hadn't expected to have to deal with this when she woke up that morning for work. She didn't know what she was supposed to say, or what she was supposed to do. All she did know was that she did not want to be talking about this right now and right then.

"I don't know what I left," Amy said finally with a sigh, "but I most certainly didn't leave him. I had to leave. It wasn't, and still isn't, safe for me to be there. I had to leave."

She started to walk away but Georgie reached her the counter to grab her sleeve.

"Oh no," she cried. "You don't get to just walk away after all of that. No, we're finally getting somewhere."

"Georgina," Amy said in a low and warning voice.

"You've been home for, what, two weeks now?"

"Almost a month," Amy corrected quietly.

"And this is the first you've said about why it is that you're home. You can't just expect us to let you get away with that. We're your best friends."

"It isn't any of your business," Amy said.

"Isn't our business?" Georgie laughed. "Amy, you're our best friend. Everything is our business."

"Not this time."

"And why not?" Georgie demanded. "What makes this time any different?"

Katherine and Michelle looked at each other again. They hated where this was going but they couldn't help but be curious. They had been wondering this for weeks now and they were finally starting to get some answers. If only they weren't getting the answers in George's way.

"What makes this time different?" Amy asked. Her voice was low and cold. "What makes this time different? _Everything_. Everything is different. My entire world has been flipped upside down. Everything I've known for the past fourteen years has been ripped away from me.

"I've lost things that you could never imagine. I've had friends torn away from me, I've been tortured and beaten for days on end, I've been threatened and hurt, and I had to leave behind the love of my life, not for my sanity, but for his. He begged and pleaded for me to leave because he knew he wouldn't have a moment to his self when he wasn't concerned about me.

"And you know what," Amy hissed, pointing at herself, "neither would I. You'll never understand what I've been through or what I'm going through now, so just shut the hell up."

She slammed her apron and notepad onto the counter and stormed away from the trio of shocked girls.

…..

Katie and Michelle found her out in the alley behind the diner. She was sitting on a stack of crates with her back against the wall, mindlessly throwing little bits of paper into a garbage can. She took no notice of their approach though she didn't start when they settled into place next to her.

There were several minutes of silence, broken only by sirens, rumbling voices, and busy Chicago traffic. The sun was peeking out from over hazy clouds, and Amy leaned back to allow the warmth of the sunny day to wash over her; she didn't get a lot of sun in England, and that was one thing she had desperately missed.

"I can't stand the idea of being a damsel-in-distress," Amy said suddenly. "I've read all these books about princesses and fair maidens who are constantly being saved. They sit around and wait for their Prince Charming to swoop in and slay the dragon before sweeping the princesses off their feet, and instead of caring or making snippy comments about feminism and how they're strong enough to save themselves, they simple smile and simper and live happily ever after. She's a princess in every sense of the word.

"Of course," Amy continued, "then you have all the other books where you've got the girl who is brazen and bold and at times cold. She's fearless and cynical and everyone loves to hate her. She couldn't imagine living her life or depending on anyone else. She's beautiful and she's dangerous and she won't take anything from anyone. She's a warrior.

"And every once in a while," Amy said softly, "you come across a book where the girl is fierce and snarky and would stand up for anyone, including herself without question, but at the same time, she craves to be held and told that's she's beautiful and intelligent and loved. She'll fight and scream and she could kick everyone's asses but at the end of the day, all she wants to do is curl up in the arms of the man she loves. She's able to admit that she's not as strong as she tells everyone and that she's just as much a hopeless romantic as everyone else. She's a mix of both worlds.

"That's the kind of girl I want to be," Amy said. "That's the kind of story I want my life to be."

"Who says you're not that girl?" Michelle asked quietly. "I'd say you just described yourself right then."

Amy laughed bitterly.

"Sure," she scoffed, "except for the fact that I'm selfish and cowardly and ignorant."

"Do you always tear yourself down like this?" Katie asked. "Is this like a daily ritual or something?"

"I left the man I love to fight a war against the most dangerous men of all time," Amy said slowly and deliberately. "I left him, and I left my friends and my students and my coworkers. I left them to fend for themselves while I went to live in the protection of my family, far away from any danger.

"I let him convince me to do that," she said. "I let him convince me that it was okay to leave because in the end we would be together, when in all likelihood he's going to be dead within a year.

"So tell me again that I'm not selfish and ignorant," Amy breathed.

"Why didn't you say any of this before?" Katie asked. "Why didn't you tell us this?"

"Because I figured the longer I kept smiling and pretending like nothing was wrong," Amy said softly, "the longer I could go on pretending that this wasn't reality. That I was going to wake up in my bed and he would be there too."

"That's what this has all been about?" Michelle asked. "You've been pretending that nothing is wrong rather than just accept that it is?"

"It's easier to protect all of you if I don't constantly have you breathing down my neck," Amy pointed out.

"You don't need to protect us from anything," Katie protested. "We're here for you, through thick and thin. You get that, right?"

"Oh, trust me," Amy laughed, "I get that all too well, which is exactly why I need to protect you. None of you really understand what's out there waiting for you. If I can't be there protecting them, then I'm going to do everything I can to protect all of you."

Neither Katie nor Michelle knew what to say in response to this. They had known Amy for more than half of their lives, but they had never seen her like this. It wasn't like her to behave like this, and they still didn't quite understand, but how could they? How could they really know what was going on with her when they were living – quite literally – in two different worlds?

"You know she didn't mean anything by it, right?" Michelle asked gently. Katie and Amy looked at her. "Georgie, she really didn't mean any harm."

"Yes she did," Amy said softly, "and I get why she said it too, but that doesn't change the fact that I am here and everyone else is back there."

They sat in silence for another few minutes, listening to the city traffic and the cacophony of life in the distance. Finally, Amy jumped off the crates and turned to her friends. She held out her hands to them and smiled.

"C'mon," Amy said. "I better get back to work."

…..

That night, after several more hours of waiting on hungry customers, some of whom were polite and kind while others were loud and rambunctious, Amy crawled into her childhood bed. The lights were low and Amy could hear the faint murmurs of the television in the other room. Gathering her blankets up around her chin, Amy settled into her pillows and stared up at the cracked ceiling.

To think that she had been here just a few weeks ago, and the only thing that had been on her mind then was getting home to Charlie. Of course, that was still all she was thinking about, but back then, there had been no doubts that he would be there to come home to. Now, however…

Amy sighed and rolled onto her side, groaning as her back moaned with pain. Carrying platters laden with plates and meals had had done much to improve her posture but had done little to stop her body's aches and pains.

She opened her eyes to see the small bottle of pain relievers on her nightstand. Ever since she had started at the diner, she had been needed to take at least one a day to deal with the aches and sores. Every day she would wake up feeling much better than the day before but when she went to sleep at night, she felt ten times worse.

Wincing as she reached over to grab the container, Amy poured one of the pills into her hand, and she shut her eyes as she swallowed it dry. Making a face at the bitter taste it left in her mouth, Amy rolled back onto her side and shut her eyes.

She willed the pain to go away as she started to drift asleep, hoping that it would take away the pain in her heart away as well.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Well, there you have it! Not exactly sure what kind of response I'm hoping to get from this chapter. I did make sure to include an Amy-and-the-girls heart-to-heart though! (Yay!(?)). I also know there was some hope of getting a Charlie POV, but in all honesty, I hadn't even thought of that when I was planning out these next couple of chapters. I was actually only going to do Amy POV only, but it got me thinking that maybe I should include some Charlie chapters as well.

MAYBE, I don't know for sure just yet.

I also know some of my dear readers wanted Amy to just forget everything Charlie said and go straight back to England and give him a piece of her mind (and a kiss or two), but in my mind, once Amy makes a promise, she isn't one to break it. Loyalty and honesty are incredibly important to her, so it's going to take a bit more than just her missing her boyfriend to take her back to England.

Anyway, I do hope you all enjoyed, and let me know what you think so far. I'm actually really curious to find out. What do you guys think about Amy working as a waitress? Did you miss Georgie and the others? What about that Wyman bunch? Have you missed Rich being kind of insensitive? Want me to send Amy back to England ASAP so that Charlie can propose to her and they can live happily ever after?

.

.

.

Not happening.

.

At least, not just yet.

.

Peace in the Middle East!

WiseGirl


	69. Chapter 68

**AN:** Hello again! Here's another hopefully delightful chapter of this never ending story. It's a bit of a filler, but it's setting up for some stuff to come, so please enjoy. Also, I may be MIA for the next week or so. I'm heading down to see my lovely Louisville family and my life's gonna be pretty hectic the next few days. I'll try to write when I can, because I'm actually really excited for the next few chapters (which means you should be too!)

**Dedication:** Umm... kind of at a loss this time... ummm... you know what. Here's to me, because I wrote one of my essays for AP Lang today in under an hour. Pretty fantastic if I do say so myself. Take that school.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

* * *

><p><strong>Friday, October 10, 1997<strong>

Amy shivered and drew her coat closer around her while burrowing the bottom half of her face into her thick scarf. Fall was well underway and while Amy did love this time of year, what with the bright colored leaves and cool days, she wasn't that big a fan of the wind, something which Chicago had in abundance – it was the Windy City after all.

It was Amy's first day off of work in what felt like weeks, and rather than spend it cooped up in her room with her parents' ears pressed to the door, she had decided to venture out of the house and spend a little time to herself. At least this way, she wouldn't constantly have people asking if she was okay or if she wanted to talk or cry or drink tea and cookies.

A car honked at her as she ran across the street and a kind soul held the door open for her as she rushed into the small coffee shop that was hidden away on an empty street. Amy sighed and smiled slightly as the warmth of the small brew washed over her, warming her to the core.

After waiting in line for her order, Amy settled into the corner of the shop, far from prying eyes, and pulled out a newspaper from her bag. With a careful, cursory glance around the room, Amy opened the newspaper and spread it across her table, being sure to hide the moving pictures with her elbows and coffee.

The witch's eyes were drawn immediately to the headline that was splashed across the front page, and she found herself leaning forward eagerly as her eyes flashed over the words of the paper.

_**NEW REGULATIONS OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC: WHERE HAS THE MINISTRY GONE?**_

_Over a month has passed since the-Boy-Who-Lived was last sighted. After infiltrating the English Ministry of Magic on the second of September, Potter managed to evade the clutches of the Minister and his security. There is little knowledge of what England's Undesirable No. 1 was doing in the Ministry on this day, but it is known that in the wake of his infiltration, several Muggleborns escaped from the Ministry and have not been seen since._

_Since the disappearance of the prior Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, almost two months ago, Great Britain's Ministry has established several new commissions which are being used to investigate Muggleborns and the origins of their powers. The most prominent of these new programs is the Muggleborn Registration Commission, headed by the ex-Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Dolores Umbridge._

_In a recent article published by London's _Daily Prophet, _it was explained that_ _the Muggleborn Registration Commission was created under the pretense of investigating Muggleborns so that it could be determined where they came to possess their magical powers. It is the belief of the British Ministry at this time that magic can only be passed from one magical being to another, and for Muggleborns to have obtained this power, it must have been stolen or taken by force._

_From all over England, Muggleborns have been dragged in to the Ministry to complete questionnaires about their family lineage before being placed under the supervision of Dementors while they await their trials. Those who are identified as being Muggleborn are pronounced guilty and from there are sent to Azkaban under the charge of having stolen magic from a magical person._

_As stated earlier, it is unknown as to why Potter was in the Ministry that day, but it is safe to say that he is certainly not on the side of the Ministry of Magic at this time, a sentiment which seems to be ringing true here in America as well. Well the American Government of Magic prides itself on having developed a symbiotic relationship with the Ministry of Magic, it is also safe to say that it does not condone the practices of these new Muggleborn commissions. _

_In short, it seems as though the Wizarding World of England has been turned upside down, and no one is quite sure how to take this new administration that seems to be taking over. What is certain, however, is that in times like these the Wizarding World as a whole is in need of someone whom they can trust to right the wrongs of these past years, andif you were to ask this reporter, she would most certainly say that it seems as though that someone may just be a seventeen year old wizard with a little ol' scar on his head._

-_Serena Litzgo_

Amy sighed and folded the papers back up. The American papers had been posting articles like this for the past few weeks as news from England began to cross over the waters. It was dangerous and incredibly stupid of them to be publishing these articles, especially in times like this, but Amy also knew that You-Know-Who's power was severely limited here in America. So severely, in fact, that it was basically nonexistent. Of course, Amy still thought it was foolish of them to press their luck, but she couldn't help but admit that it soothed her mind a bit to at least know what was going on back home.

Since arriving back in Chicago, Amy had not received one word from her friends and co-workers back in England, and quite frankly, she wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not. She had no idea how any of her friends were doing or if they were hurt or in hiding and she didn't know what was really going on over there. Sure, she got the watered down version that was missing thousands of details, but she had no idea what was really being done to stop Voldemort. Heck – she didn't even know if anything was being done to stop Him. For all she knew, the entire Wizarding World of Great Britain had simply accepted Voldemort's rise to power and given up on ever returning their world to normalcy.

In fact, from what she had just read in Serena's article that seemed to be exactly what they were doing. She understood that these were terrifying times and that these were dangerous times, but how could they all just sit back and watch as their friends and family were dragged away to Azkaban of all places?

Amy let out a bitter laugh as she realized that if she hadn't left England, she could very well be in one of those cells having the life – quite literally – sucked out of her.

If there was one thing, however, that didn't take Amy by surprise about all of this, it was that Dolores Umbridge was the head of this Muggleborn committee. Who else could take on such a prejudiced and cruel role than that hideous toad? Amy thought she would have learned her lesson from the last time she took on a leadership role, but it appeared as though the Toad simple couldn't help herself. A small part of Amy wished that one of the Dementors would turn on her, but even she knew that would be too kind. She should be forced to endure the pain that she had inflicted upon these Muggleborn families, and Amy hoped – desperately hoped – that she would get her comeuppance.

Hopefully, Amy would be there to see it too.

After all, she still had a lot of things to get off her chest about that Toad, and what better way to do it than straight to the ugly witch's face? If there was one thing Amy knew how to do, it was how to hold a grudge against someone who had wronged her. Of course, they had to have _really_ wronged her to get on her bad side. She wouldn't hold grudges if they did something silly like told a lie or kept something from her, oh no it would have to be something a bit more drastic than that. Something like firing her from her job because she cares about her students or locking her in a dungeon and torturing her for days on end. Something like that.

Amy's eyes scanned over the paper once more and she couldn't help but stop to look closely at the small picture which accompanied the author's name. It had been some time since she had last seen her dear friend Serena, almost a year in fact, and it came as a relief to the witch to know that she was evidently in good health and spirits. Since Dumbledore's death, contact between Amy and her correspondents in the American Wizarding World had been limited. Amy had been afraid that any information being sent over would fall into the wrong hands, and rather than risk that, she had simply stop sending reports to her friends and old colleagues.

From the looks of this paper, however, it didn't seem as though they had the same fears as she did. Amy just supposed it was that darn American stubbornness and pluck shining out in these dark times. It was actually rather refreshing, now that Amy thought of it. People in England were much more reserved than she had expected. They actually took time to stop and think over their words and actions – at least most of the time they did – while American's just sort of dove head-on into whatever was coming towards them. She had missed that impulsiveness to be honest.

The small photo of her school friend smiled up at her and waved with a toothy grin and Amy had to restrain herself from smiling and waving back. She didn't want to look like a _complete_ nutter, after all, but that small little smile did make Amy realize one thing: she really missed her friends from school, both in England and here in America.

Maybe isolating herself from the rest of the world hadn't been the greatest idea after all, and besides, Charlie had insisted that she only return to America, he didn't say anything about not doing something here. And even if it wasn't what he wanted, it was likely he would ever know and plus she was a free person, an individual, and that meant she could do whatever she wanted. If she made a few mistakes along the way then so be it, but at least they would be her mistakes and her mistakes alone.

And besides, mistakes were fun. Mistakes made life interesting, it gave life character. A life without mistakes wasn't a life lived well. Amy already had a very long list of mistakes she had made in her life, and she supposed that adding a few more to the list couldn't really do her any harm. Or at least, not any real harm. Maybe a bruised ego or shoulder or two. Nothing too drastic.

A smiling waitress suddenly appeared to Amy's left, and the witch shut the paper in a hurry. If the barista thought that was weird she said nothing but continued to smile. She couldn't have been more than a few years younger than Amy, and she looked like every other typical teenager that roamed the streets of Chicago.

"Can I get you anything else, miss?" she asked cheerily.

Amy glanced sideways at her paper before smiling weakly at the girl and shaking her head.

"No, but thank you," she said with a false sense of cheeriness.

The barista smiled again and moved as though to turn away but stopped. She turned back to Amy and pointed at the closed newspaper in her hands. The witch felt her heart beat a little faster as the stranger opened her mouth.

"Interesting looking paper," she commented. "Where's it from?"

"I made it," Amy said quickly. It was the first thing to come to her mind and she couldn't exactly take it back now, could she?

"Project for one of my classes," she continued, surprised by how easy it was for her to keep a straight face to match her lie.

"Oh?" the girl asked. "What college do you go to?"

"UIC," Amy answered immediately. "I'm there for Graphic Design and Journalism."

'_Graphic Design?' _Amy echoed silently. '_Where did that come from?'_

"That's so cool!" the barista chirped. Clearly, she didn't notice Amy's look of apprehension as she spoke. "Well, I know that if I were your teacher, I'd give you an A for sure. It looks so professional!"

"Thanks," Amy said slowly, "well, I should probably be getting back to this…" She trailed off and gestured to the back cover of the newspaper and the barista smiled.

"No definitely!" she exclaimed. "Have a great day!"

Amy smiled weakly as the girl walked away, her heels clicking excitedly against the tiles of the small coffee shop. Once she was on the opposite side of the café, Amy let out a sigh of relief and turned her attention back to the newspaper that was still on her table.

With a hurried look at the clock that adorned the wall, Amy shoved the paper into her bag and stood up to throw out her trash. She gave the staff of the small shop a wave good-bye as she braced herself for the windy world outside its doors.

"Perhaps I shouldn't bring any more of these to public places," Amy muttered under her breath as she stepped outside. "And maybe I should give Serena a call."

…..

When Amy got back to her parents' house, she was relieved to discover that her Mom and Dad weren't there. It wasn't that she didn't love her parents; it was just that she was sick and tired of them hanging over her. At least this way, she could speak as freely as she wanted without her parents listening in on the other end.

It took Amy awhile to find the scrap of paper with Serena's number elegantly scrawled across it and it took her even longer to find the landline in the mess that was her parents' home. When she finally retrieved the bulky phone from under Ollie's bed, she curled up in the corner of the couch and carefully punched in the digits.

The phone rang several times before there was a click and a cheery voice bloomed over the silence.

"Hello?" a voice greeted. Amy could tell my her inflection that she was more than slightly curious to know who would be calling her on an actual phone.

"Serena?" Amy asked brightly. "It's Amy."

There was a pause on the other end.

"Amy as in, I-should-be-in-England-right-about-now-Amy?"

The witch laughed.

"Amy as in, I'm-in-Chicago-and-that's-all-that-matters-Amy."

There was a pause before –

"I don't that Amy," Serena said cheerfully. "I think you have the wrong number."

"Oh, you know what," Amy said, "you're right. I was trying to reach the Funny-Serena not the boring one. Sorry about that."

"Good to hear from you too," Serena replied blandly.

"You started it."

"Are we twelve again?"

"Did we ever really grow up?"

"Oh, I suppose not." Amy could almost hear Serena blanch on the other end. "That's unfortunate."

Serena laughed on the other end before the fell into an awkward silence. It was like this for several moments before Amy cleared her throat.

"I saw your article," she said suddenly. "The one about the Muggleborn Registration Commission."

"Merlin, it's awful, isn't it?" Serena asked. "I mean, what the hell is going on over there?"

"I wish I knew," Amy said. She tried to play it off as a joke but there was still a bitter undertone to it.

There was another moment of silence, though this time it was broken by Serena who gave an exasperated sigh.

"Alright, Wyman," she heaved. "Out with it."

"With what?"

"Amy," Serena said slowly, "you're not one to call me out of the blue to talk about one of my articles. I mean, I love you and all, but something's up with you. So just tell me so we can try to fix it, yeah?"

"This is not exactly how I wanted this conversation to go," Amy said.

"Well then, it was nice talking to you – "

"Remember when you came to visit me in Hogsmeade?" Amy asked. "A couple months ago?"

"Yeah," Serena said, "what about it?"

"Do you remember what we talked about?"

Serena paused for a moment. "If I remember correctly," she said carefully, "we talked about what it was you wanted from us when the war broke out. You were saying that things were getting dangerous and you didn't want us to get hurt, but it was up to us to decide if we wanted to help."

"And do you remember what I told you we were going to do when the war did break out?" Amy asked.

There was a pause.

"You said we'd fight."

"I said we'd fight," Amy agreed. "It's almost been three months, Serena. The world may not know it, but I do, and you do too. That's why I'm calling."

"To tell me the war started?" Serena asked.

"To ask you if you were ready to fight," Amy corrected.

"What?" Serena laughed. "Like right now? Are we going to battle?"

"We will be," Amy said in all seriousness. Serena's laughter died away. "It's coming, and when it does, the whole Wizarding World needs to be ready, and that includes all of us."

"So what are you saying?" Serena asked. "You want us to get a boot-camp up and running for witches and wizards? Make them do training exercises and duel each other to prepare?"

"Not exactly," Amy said carefully. "I was thinking more like establishing an organization for witches and wizards who wanted to fight when the time came. Like an American Order of the Phoenix."

"Huh," Serena said after a moment. "That's not actually a bad idea. Actually that's a really good idea."

"Right?" Amy asked. She shifted in her seat and sat up straight, excited to hear Serena's willingness. "We could set it up and get people we know who would be interested in volunteering to join. That way when battle really does break out we can actually help out, rather than sit by and watch everything go by."

"It is a good idea," Serena agreed, "but I can't help but wonder what spurred this on. I mean, why are we just now discussing this?"

"I just – I just can't sit by and watch my world fall apart," Amy said earnestly. "I simply can't."

"Amy," Serena said gently, "are you sure about this?"

The witch sat silently for a moment, remembering back to the night of Bill and Fleur's wedding, and she thought about how desperate Charlie had been to protect her from the battle that lay ahead. He couldn't bear the idea of her being injured and he was willing to do anything to protect her, but at the same time, Amy couldn't bear the idea of sitting by and watching the world collapse around her. She couldn't do it any longer.

"I'm one hundred percent sure," Amy said finally. "I want to do this, and I want to do it now."

Serena sighed.

"Alright," she agreed. "I'll spread the word and start asking around for volunteers. I'll let you know how things are coming along, kay?"

"Yes, please," Amy said.

"Okay," Serena said. "I'd better go. These articles won't research themselves."

Amy laughed.

"No, they most certainly won't," she agreed.

"Bye Amy."

"Bye – Oh! Serena?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

A smile tugged at the corner of Amy's mouth and she couldn't help but think that Serena was smiling faintly too.

"What would you do without me?"

There was a click and Amy's hand fell away from her ear as she realized what it was that she had just done. And despite the fact that she had most definitely just set herself in the line of danger, she couldn't help but smile slightly.

…..

**Tuesday, October 14****th****, 1997**

"Alright, it's really quite simple," Amy began. "When the customers come in, show them to a seat and tell them about any specials we might be having. Give them a couple of minutes and then go back for drinks and after you get those, they usually know what they want to eat. Write it all down and bring it to Marty. It's usually a fifteen to twenty minute wait, and once they're done you send them over to the register and then clean up their table once they leave. Easy enough?"

The newest employee of the diner gave a toothy grin and an assured nod.

"You bet!" she exclaimed. "That's really it?"

Amy laughed.

"Yeah, that's really it, Laila," Amy said. "You're smart so you should be just fine. Unlike some people." Amy shot a pointed look at Marty who was shuffling around the kitchen and swearing under his breath, and the two girls giggled.

Laila was a new waitress that had just been hired at the diner. As a teen from the neighborhood, Laila was bright and friendly and what seemed to be permanently optimistic. She was an incredibly sweet girl and Amy didn't think working with the girl would be too difficult.

Looking down at her watch, Amy let out a little groan and looked over at Laila.

"It's almost time for the lunch rush," she told her, "so I'd get your pen and a couple of smiles ready because there's going to be a ton of hungry people coming in soon enough."

"Aye aye, captain!" Laila said with a mock salute. Amy rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless.

While the teen busied herself with memorizing the table rotation and where exactly everything was, Amy began wiping down the counters and began gathering up silverware and plates from now empty tables. There always seemed to be a mess around the diner and Amy really had no idea where it was all coming from. One moment the place was spotless, like eating off the floor clean, and then the next, it was like a twister made of food scraps and junk had swept through the place. It had certainly made her see her mother, Ann, in a much brighter light. Anyone who could clean up after four messy children must be made of some pretty special stuff.

As Amy finished wiping down the counters, the door of the diner open. The ring of the little bell above the door announced to the entire place that there was yet another customer to feed. Seeing that Amy was clearly busy trying to clean up the counters, Laila plastered a bright smile on her face and went to greet the newest customer.

"Hello!" she said brightly. "Welcome to The Grill! Table for one?"

"Uh no, thank you," the customer began, "I'm actually looking for someone."

Amy's eyes widened with shock and the bucket in which she was gathering the dirty plates crashed to the tiled ground. Laila jumped with shock and everyone's eyes, including that of the newest customer, turned to look at the woman who was frozen in place.

Amy turned slowly turned on her heel, and when she caught sight of the person standing just in the doorway of the diner, she found herself out of breath. She didn't quite believe what she was seeing. It wasn't really, it couldn't be. It simply didn't make sense.

The customer, however, simply smiled at Amy's dumbfounded reaction.

"Wotcher Amy."

…..

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>PLOT TWIST?!

Gasp!

REVIEW

Bigger Gasp!

Just as a note, UIC is short for University of Illinois at Chicago.

Peace out, Girl Scout!

WiseGirl

Peace out


	70. Chapter 69

**AN:** Hello again, my lovely friends! I hope the last week has been kind to you all, because it certainly has been for me! I'm here in Kentucky right now with my family, and I must say it's been nice to get away from the craziness that is Chicago. Unfortunately, my summer assignments seemed to have followed me here and are taunting me from my bag ("_Complete me!" they cry. "Read me!"_). Yet, I still have eight days until school starts (ohmyrowling, I'm going to be a junior! Eek!) so I can put them off a bit longer. I'd rather write the next chapter for this lovely piece than take notes on the body systems any day of the year!

**Dedication: **To my lovely friend Aly, who celebrated her fifteenth birthday yesterday. I love you boo, and thanks for not hating me! You're _totally awesome_!

**Disclaimer:** Just like those adorable, six-week old doberman/labrador puppies that I fell in love with today, I don't own Harry Potter and Co.

* * *

><p><strong>Tuesday, October 14, 1997<strong>

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Tonks smiled faintly from behind a curtain of brown curls. She was dressed in Muggle clothes and had a scarf flung around her neck which dangled down her open coat.

"I can't come and visit one of my best friends every once in a while?" the witch asked with a teasing glance. "I wish you had told me that before I came all of this way." She turned away slowly as though she was about to walk back out the door and head home, but Amy practically jumped across the counter to gather her friend up in a tight embrace. Tonks let out a little gasp of air as Amy squeezed the life out of her and she laughed breathlessly.

"You're not going anywhere!" Amy ordered. She clung to Tonks tightly, still not believing – or really understanding why – she was there.

"I missed you too," Tonks managed to gasp, "But I'd really like to be able to breathe right about now."

Amy pulled away immediately and looked Tonks straight in the eye.

"Sorry!" she laughed, "I'm just so happy to see you, and – wait, what the hell are you doing here?"

Tonks looked away sheepishly.

"Ah, well," she said, "I mean – "

"Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you to be here?" Amy hissed. She glanced around the diner warily, as though expecting a horde of Death Eaters to pop out from behind the red vinyl. "For all of us?"

"Yes," Tonks agreed, "but – "

"You could have been killed!" Amy continued. "Or you could have been seen by someone, or – "

"Or I could be stuck talking to someone who won't let me get a word out?" Tonks cut in. "Yeah that would be terrible."

"Tonks," Amy admonished, "I'm serious. You shouldn't have come."

"I had to!" Tonks protested. "It was an emergency!"

"An emergency?" Amy repeated. "Are you okay?"

Tonks started to nod but she paused mid-way and then shook her head quickly. Her eyes watered a bit as she leaned in towards Amy.

"No," she said quietly, "I'm not. I'm really not."

There was another moment of silence and Tonks looked around the confines of the diner. The other customers had long since returned to their meals, and Laila had left the two friends several minutes ago to attend to several new people who had come in for lunch. Finally, Tonks turned back to look at Amy.

"Remus is gone," she whispered brokenly, and Amy felt her heart skip a beat at the look of despair in Tonks' eyes.

"What?" she gasped. "You don't mean – He can't be – "

"He's not dead," Tonks amended. "At least, I don't think he is."

Amy opened and closed her mouth several times as she processed these words.

"I don't understand," Amy said finally. "Where is he?"

Tonks swallowed heavily and her eyes watered up more, almost to the brink of pouring over.

"He left me," she said in a strangled voice. "Just after Bill and Fleur's wedding. He left."

"That bastard!" Amy said instantly, not caring that her voice had gone up several pitches, and several customers looked up to see what was happening. "Are you kidding me? What the hell? That fuc – "

"Amy," Tonks broke in, "not here." She eyed the Muggles carefully and Amy followed her line of sight before swallowing down the rant that was building up inside of her. She clenched her jaw and bit down on the inside of her cheek.

"Right," she said through clenched teeth. "Not here."

She turned away from Tonks and spotted Laila talking enthusiastically to some of her customers.

"Laila," Amy called. The teen turned to look at her. "Can you handle this for a bit? I really need a few minutes."

"Oh um," Laila said with wide eyes. She looked around the diner which was quickly filling with more customers. "I mean, it's my first day, so – "

"It's only for a few minutes," Amy pleaded. "And plus, Timothy should be here in a bit for his shift. He can help you when he gets in." Laila looked hesitant but when she saw the look of urgency in Amy's eyes she nodded shakily and gave her a smile.

"Sure," she said. She brightened her smile and straightened her back. "I got this."

Amy smiled thankfully before turning back to Tonks.

"C'mon," she said. "We can talk in the back."

Tonks nodded and glanced around the room once more before following Amy to the office just to the right of the kitchen where Marty was humming and dancing away. The office was really the owner's but this wasn't the only diner that he owned, so it was empty most days. The employees used it as a break room, and since only Amy, Marty, and Laila were on duty at the moment, the office was empty.

Tonks entered first, and Amy followed. She paused in the doorway and poked her head back out to make sure that no one had followed them and then she carefully closed the door. Amy turned back to Tonks who had started to remove her coat and scarf.

"We shouldn't be bothered in here," she told her friend. "Laila and Marty will have their hands full for a while and – oh my God!"

Tonks looked at Amy in surprise before glancing down at her rounded stomach and looking back up sheepishly.

"Surprise?" she asked with a smile. She placed a hand instinctively on her stomach.

"Tonks!" Amy cried before rushing forward excitedly to hug her friend. "Congratulations! This is amazing!" She pulled away after a moment and looked down at the bump that lay between them before back up at Tonks who was beaming behind sad eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Amy demanded suddenly. Tonks laughed slightly.

"I tried to!" she said. "I swear I did, but every time I tried to we'd get interrupted." Amy thought back to the last few times that she and Tonks had talked and found the witch to be right. Every time that they had started to talk they had been interrupted before they really got to talking, but Amy couldn't really find herself to care. Tonks was going to have a baby!

"Oh," Amy said, "it's fine! Really! I'm just so happy for you! And for Remus too! Oh, he's got to be so excited and – "

Amy broke off as Tonks' lip wobbled and she looked as though she were about to cry, and it was in that moment that Amy realized what had happened. She had heard Tonks go on and on for weeks about how Remus rejected her, not because he didn't love her but because he was scared of what being with him would do to her. He was scared that he would hurt her, that he would curse her, and in his mind, that's what this baby was. It was a curse, not a blessing.

"Come here," Amy said softly. "Come sit down." She grabbed Tonks' wrist and led the teary eyed witch to a chair. Amy sat down across from her and grabbed her hand to try and supply her with some comfort. They sat there for a moment or so before Amy began to speak again. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"We found out I was pregnant a few days before we went to get Harry," Tonks said quietly. "I was thrilled, and for a few days, Remus was too, but then he got it in his mind that he had passed his Lycanthropy onto the baby. After that, he just couldn't handle the idea that he had somehow cursed me or condemned me to a life where I would be forced to move constantly and that I would be hated by my peers or some nonsense like that. He wouldn't even listen when I tried to tell him that I didn't care about all of that. If someone can't handle the fact that my husband is a werewolf and we may have a child with the same trait, then who needs them?

"Still," Tonks continued with a sniffle, "he wouldn't listen, and a few weeks after the wedding, he left, and I haven't seen him since. I don't know if he's hurt, or dead, or if he's coming back. I don't know anything."

She sniffled again and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Amy let out a small sniffle of her own before giving Tonks' hand a squeeze.

"It's his loss," she said immediately. Tonks looked up at her friend and Amy gave her a small, consoling smile. "You are undoubtedly the best thing in his life, and if he can't see that, then he's a bigger fool than I had ever thought.

"And you know what?" Amy asked. When Tonks only shrugged in response, Amy plowed on with a fierce determination that she hadn't felt in weeks. "You're going to be an absolutely amazing mother, and I hope he realizes that before it's too late because if he doesn't then he's going to miss out on the best thing that could ever happen to him, to anyone in fact. And if this baby is anything like its mother, then it's gonna be a hell of a person too."

"Well, that certainly does make me feel better," Tonks said with a slight laugh, "but it doesn't change the fact that Remus left and no one has seen him in weeks."

"I wish I could tell you that I had," Amy said gently, "but I honestly haven't, and if I had I probably would have kicked his ass when I found out that he left you. And then I would tell him to go straight back to you. He's a good man, Tonks, he really is. He's an honorable man, and he loves you."

"I know that, and I hadn't really expected you to have seen him," Tonks told Amy. "It's just that I've checked everywhere else, and I haven't been able to find him and no one else has seen him either. I guess I came here more to see you then to look for him. It's been weird not seeing you every other day or even having you in the country. I keep turning around to talk to you and you're not there."

"It's weird not being there for me as well," Amy admitted. "And trust me, if I could go back I would in a heartbeat. I hate being here when I know what you are all going through. It makes me sick to think that you're facing that every day while I sit by and do nothing.

"And I miss you," Amy continued on. "I mean, I love all my friends here, but it would be nice to sit down and have a conversation about everything that's going on without having to explain myself every other word. I suppose that's partially my fault for not telling them about everything, but even if I had, it wouldn't be the same.

"And, I miss the others," Amy said softly. She looked down at her hands which were twisting anxiously in her lap. "I miss Remus, and my students, and the other professors at Hogwarts. And I miss – I miss the Weasleys, more so than I ever thought possible. I miss Molly's coddling and the way she would always force me to have triple servings of everything and Arthur insisting that I explain every Muggle thing to him. I miss the Twins being – well – the Twins, and I miss Ginny and Ron and Hermione and Harry. I miss all of them."

The witch fell silent and refused to say another word. She had spent enough time in the past few months thinking about which Weasley it was that she missed the most. She certainly didn't need to say his name, or perhaps she didn't want to hear his name.

Tonks, however, apparently didn't share these thoughts and she had no qualms about continuing on where Amy left off.

"And you miss Charlie," Tonks added gently after Amy had trailed off. "Right?"

Amy looked up at Tonks in disbelief and she laughed shakily before nodding jerkily. Tonks' expression gentle and she was looking at Amy, not in pity, but with kindness and empathy, because she too knew what it was like to be separated from the one she loved. In a blink of an eye, Amy felt her eyes well up with tears, and she sniffled as she tried to force them down.

"Every moment of every day," Amy choked out finally, and she simply couldn't hold them in any longer. Her tears began to spill over, and Amy clapped her hand to her mouth to hold her sobs in as she hunched over and pressed her face into her hands. Her shoulders shook with each breath she took and Tonks jumped from her seat to move to Amy's side. She wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gripped her tightly, as she tried to console the distraught witch. Amy grabbed onto Tonks' hand and held on firmly.

"I'm sorry," she croaked eventually. Amy released Tonks' hand and straightened up so that she could look her fellow witch in the eye. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to – I shouldn't be crying! I'm being ridiculous. I'm sorry."

"Oh Amy," Tonks said quietly as she settled onto the edge of a nearby desk. She reached out to grab Amy's hand again and she gripped it tightly. "You have nothing to be sorry about and you're not being ridiculous at all. You have every right to be upset."

"Do I?" Amy asked with a bitter laugh. "I mean, you're pregnant and your husband left you and there's a freakin' war in your backyard and you seem to be holding yourself together rather well."

"I assure you, Amy," Tonks said with a slight laugh of her own, "that I'm not as well put together as you think, and it's actually a miracle that I'm not a teary mess of my own right now. These hormones are out to get me, I swear. But I've spent the last few weeks crying, so it's actually quite refreshing to see someone else crying for once."

"Oh, well then," Amy said with mock graciousness, "I'm glad to be of assistance to you."

"And you have every right to be upset," Tonks repeated. "You've been separated from the ones you love, and that's enough to make any one break down until a million pieces, and yet here you are, working and smiling and acting completely find."

"The key word there is acting," Amy broke in. "I'm not fine, not at all."

"And no one expects you to be," the Auror said brightly. "I think it would be a bit odd if you were."

"I just – I just hate the fact that I'm here and you are all over there," Amy exclaimed. "I should be there. I should be fighting along with the rest of you, and I hate that I'm not and I hate him for making me leave!"

"Him?" Tonks asked. "Charlie?"

"Yes!" Amy cried. She stood up suddenly with great fervor. Her eyes were blazing, though no longer with tears but frustration and fury. "He was the one that asked me to leave! He begged me to! He told me that he loved me too much to see me hurt and that he wouldn't be able to do anything if he knew that I was there alongside him! He kept saying all this crap and going on and on about how he loved me, but if he loved me then how could he let me leave? How could he do that? I hate him! That bastard!"

In a fit of anger, Amy grabbed a small picture frame that was resting on the edge of the desk and she heaved it against the opposite wall. It collided with a crash and the glass of the frame shattered and fell to the floor in a shower of broken glass. She was breathing heavily, and for a moment, she thought that Marty and Laila would come bursting in here to find out what had happened, but she knew that they probably hadn't heard anything over the hustle and bustle of the lunch crowd.

Next to her, Tonks watched Amy take several deep, heated breaths. She didn't look at all concerned by the fact that her friend had just thrown a picture frame in a fit of anger. Instead, she slowly crossed the room and picked up the smashed frame. Careful not to step on any of the glass, Tonks drew her wand and pointed it at the cracked frame.

"_Reparo_."

The shards of glass shot off the floor and back into place in the frame which had corrected itself from its crooked place. Tonks crossed back over to Amy and set it gently on the desk. She looked over to stare at Amy who had shut her eyes and was taking deep breaths to try and calm herself down.

"He misses you too," Tonks said. Amy squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip. She simply couldn't bear to hear this. She couldn't hear Tonks tell her that her boyfriend and the love of her life missed her too, because if she knew just how much he was hurting, there would be nothing to stop her from going home to him. "He doesn't say anything and he won't talk to anyone about you, but I can tell. Hell, everyone can tell. The first time someone asked where you were, I could have sworn he was going to hex them on the spot, or punch them, I'm not really sure. He eventually told us that you came back here. He didn't really say why or for how long, but most people just assumed that you wanted to be here for your family or something. The only reason I know the truth is because he eventually couldn't keep it to himself and he told Bill, who told me because he knew we were close. Charlie didn't want me, or anyone else to know, and it stayed like that for a while.

"He seemed fine," Tonks went on, "quiet, maybe, but fine. And then I was at the Burrow one night, a few days after Remus had left, and I found him sitting by himself on the porch and he was crying." Tonks laughed a little and Amy eyed her curiously. "I've known Charlie Weasley since I was eleven," she explained. "We had classes together for seven years and we kept in touch even after we graduated, but I had never seen him cry before. He didn't seem the type, but there he was.

"I didn't say anything," Tonks told Amy. "I didn't think it was my place, but I knew there was only one thing – or in this case, person – that could make Charlie Weasley cry, and that's you. I mean, I could tell he loved you from day one. I saw how he was around the witches he dated while he was at Hogwarts, and none of it compared to the way he looked at you, let alone the way he talked to and about you."

Amy didn't know what to say, and even if she did, she didn't know how to say it. She had been spending all this time hating Charlie for making her leave, hating the fact that she was forced to be without him for who knew how long, and yet, he was experiencing the exact same thing. He knew exactly what it was she was feeling each day that she was away from him and he knew what it was like to go to sleep every night unsure of where the one he loved was and if they were safe and happy. He knew it because he was in love with her.

"I love him," Amy said eventually. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I want to spend the rest of my life with him, I really do, and I hate that he's there and I'm here. It's driving me crazy knowing that he's fighting a battle to save our future and I'm here serving burgers and fries to construction workers and teenagers."

"You'll be back together before you know it," Tonks assured her friend. "This will all be over before you know it."

"You know Tonks," Amy said, "I'm still not exactly sure why you're here. I mean, you said yourself that you didn't think I would know where Remus is and I highly doubt you came here to comfort me on my love life."

"True," Tonks said carefully, "but you're my best friend, Amy, and I had to make sure that the godmother of my baby was doing alright."

Tonks smiled slyly at the dumbfounded look on Amy's face as she finally processed what it was that the Metamorphagus had said.

"Godmother?" Amy repeated. "Me?"

Tonks nodded in confirmation, and Amy laughed suddenly and loudly before wrapping her arms tightly around the other witch. Tonks let out a laugh of her own, though she sounded incredibly relieved that Amy was so happy at this news. She'd hate to think that Amy wouldn't want to be part of her small, albeit discombobulated, family.

"Thank you," Amy breathed quietly into Tonks' ear. They pulled apart so that they could meet each other's eye. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome," Tonks said, "though I'm not really sure why it is you're thanking _me_. I should be thanking you!"

"Tonks, I'd do anything for you!" Amy laughed, "and I'd be thrilled – no _honored_ – to be your baby's godmother."

"I mean, I don't expect you to raise the baby or anything," Tonks said suddenly. "I think if anything were to happen, I would want my Mum and Dad to raise the baby, but I still want you to be there. Someone has to be there to tell them that their Mummy absolutely hated to be called by her first name, because you know my parents refuse to acknowledge that."

"So, I'd be the cool aunt?" Amy asked with twinkling eyes. "It sounds to me like you're looking for a permanent babysitter."

"Oh darn," Tonks said with a snap of her fingers, "you figured out my evil plan."

Amy laughed and she looked as though she was about to say something when there was an abrupt knock on the door of the office. Tonks immediately shoved her wand into the sleeve of her sweater, and the two witches stood as the door opened to reveal a frazzled looking Laila who was breathing heavily.

The teen looked at Amy with wide, pleading eyes.

"Please," she gasped breathlessly, "I seriously need some help. It's really starting to fill up and Timothy hasn't showed up yet. I hate to take you away from your friend but –"

"It's fine," Amy cut in. She threw a sideways glance at Tonks who nodded in agreement. "I'll be right there."

Laila sighed in relief and gave Amy a grateful smile before backing away from the door and heading back towards the boom of customers.

Amy turned to Tonks at once and gave her an apologetic smile.

"Sorry about that," she said, "but I probably should be getting back. Duty calls."

"Don't worry," Tonks assured Amy. "I should probably be heading back anyway. My Mum probably thinks I'm dead or something."

"I wish we could talk more," Amy said. "I really do. I've missed you so much, and there's so much that I want to talk about. And I'm sorry I couldn't have been more of a help finding Remus."

"I didn't really come here for him anyway," Tonks said quietly. "I just missed having someone to talk to, and I missed being able to talk to my best friend. It was worth coming here even if you didn't know anything about where Remus went. You were the real reason I came, after all."

Amy bit her lip and threw her arms around Tonks once more and Tonks embraced her as well. Amy couldn't help but laugh slightly at the feeling of the Auror's swollen stomach pressed against her flat one, and when she pulled away, she rested her hand on the swell of her belly for a moment.

"You'll take care of my godchild, right?" Amy asked. "And yourself as well?"

"I promise," Tonks said with a smile.

"And you'll keep in touch? Let me know when the baby's born, yes?"

"Will do."

"And you'll be careful, right? No chasing after Death Eaters or –"

"Yes, Mum."

Amy smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry," she said quickly. "I just don't want anything happening to you."

"Nothing's going to happen to me," Tonks said reassuringly. "I swear." Tonks smiled cheerfully, and for a moment, Amy believed her. She was so sure that she was going to be fine, and Amy couldn't bear to think about what would happen if Tonks couldn't keep her promise.

Before she could say anything else, there was the sound of crashing plates and several loud swears from the front of the restaurant. Amy turned and looked warily at the office door before back at Tonks who looked pointedly at the door.

"Duty calls, right?" Amy glared a bit but eventually smiled and nodded.

"It certainly does," she agreed. "Go on then. You really should get going."

Tonks nodded and grabbed her coat and scarf from the office chair. With a slight wave and a sudden flash of pink hair, Tonks turned on her heel and disappeared into thin air, leaving Amy alone in the office. The witch took a moment to process everything that had just happened before there was a desperate cry from the diner and Amy found herself rushing out to help.

She found Laila trying to balance several platters of steaming food and drinks in her hands and it was clear that the young girl was struggling. Amy swooped in and grabbed some of the burden from the teen and quickly deposited them, upright, onto the tables of the patrons before rushing back to get the next order of food from Marty who was running back and forth throughout the kitchen.

"Where'd your friend go?" Laila asked as she rushed by on her way to the register. "I don't think I saw her come out of the office."

"She went out the back way," Amy said quickly as she managed to juggle the next few platters of food in her hands. "Had places to be, people to see, that kind of thing."

"Where's she from?" Laila asked as she began to ring up some of the orders. "Certainly not from around here."

"Uh, somewhere in England," Amy said vaguely. "We met a few years ago on this volunteer trip."

"Oh?" Laila asked brightly. "You volunteer? For what organization?"

"Habitat for Humanity," Amy said. "We were stationed in Romania together."

"You must have had some pretty wild adventures, huh?" Laila smiled. Amy eyed the teen and smirked a bit as she remembered the missions that she had gone on with Tonks and she bit her lip to stop herself from laughing aloud.

"You could say that," she agreed before rushing off to claim the next order of food that had arrived at the counter with the ringing of the small, metal bell. As more customers came in and their faces blurred into one, Amy forced herself to push her conversation with Tonks far, far away from her mind, because she knew if she allowed herself to think about what had happened, nothing would stop her from breaking down in front of her customers and friends. She couldn't allow herself to think about all those she loved and missed, because it was too much for her. It was too much for her to think that at any moment she could lose the ones she loved.

It would be better for her to simply pretend that she was a normal Muggle. Muggles didn't have problems like this, or maybe they did, Amy wasn't really sure anymore. But she did know, that if she allowed herself to think about that red-headed wizard for even a second, she would crack, and after all the time and energy she had put in to patching herself up, she couldn't allow herself to break and think about all those she loved. She didn't have the time, or the emotional stability, to think and care and worry about everyone that was out there.

There would be time, hopefully, for all of that later.

And maybe, if she was lucky, her red-headed wizard would be there when it happened.

…..

The sun had set in the distance, casting a warm glow over the hills of browning grass and the patched up home. No one was in the yard, aside from the chickens and gnomes, and the doors and windows were shut to keep out any unwanted guests, and perhaps even a few _wanted_ guests. Or at least, guests who had a tendency to pace up and down, screeching and carrying on like a madwoman.

"You'd think she'd be smarter about all this!" Andromeda Tonks cried hysterically. "She's three months pregnant and gallivanting around like she's a teenager! She's going to get hurt or lost or something terrible will happen to her!"

"You know she's a fully trained Auror, right? I think she can protect herself."

"She's also an expert at tripping over flat surfaces!" Andromeda cried as she turned to face the speaker. Her hair was mussed up and it looked as though she had been pulling at it for some time. "You know that, Charlie! You were at school with her!"

The redheaded wizard bit his cheek to stop himself from rolling his eyes and he nodded. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked as though he hadn't had a good night's rest in some time. His shoulders were slumped and his hands were red with new callouses, undoubtedly from work. Despite the fact that there was food merrily bubbling away on the stove behind him and that Molly would never let him go more than a day without a decent meal, he looked thinner, though his shoulders were still broad and muscled.

"I do indeed," he said through clenched teeth, "which means that I know for a fact that she would never put herself and her baby in harm's way."

"Maybe when she was thinking clearly she wouldn't do that!" Andromeda argued. "But she hasn't been thinking clearly as of late, has she?"

"Perhaps with good reason," Charlie mumbled, but the frazzled witch chose to ignore him rather than argue further. Instead she returned to pacing the length of the kitchen and wringing her hands anxiously.

"And you're sure that you haven't seen her anywhere?" Andromeda asked in a tight, high-pitched voice.

Molly, Arthur, and Charlie, who were seated across from the flustered witch, shook their heads in response. In the other room, the group could hear the Twins laughing and carrying on about who knows what. Fred and George had been staying at the Burrow ever since their store had been ransacked and they thought it wouldn't be safe to live somewhere so public.

Desperate to say something which would placate the witch, Molly smiled tentatively at her witch.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Molly asked in a soothing voice. "Or something to settle your nerves?" Molly figured that she could probably find some Firewhiskey somewhere around the house, but Andromeda shook her head and continued pacing across the kitchen of the Burrow. Molly shared a look of concern with her husband before focusing her attention back on the upset witch.

"I just know something's happened to her!" Andromeda cried weepily. "Ever since Remus left she hasn't been thinking straight and oh Merlin!"

She turned suddenly to those at the table, her eyes filled with tears.

"What if she's dead?" She whispered despondently. "What if she was captured by Death Eaters and she's dead. Oh Merlin! What am I going to do if she's dead?"

"Who's dead now?"

Andromeda's eyes went wide and she turned quickly towards the door to find her daughter smiling faintly at her from the doorway of the kitchen. She was dressed, oddly enough, in Muggle clothing rather than her normal robes, and her cheeks were flushed from the fall wind. She was breathing a bit heavier than usual but other than that there appeared to be nothing wrong with her. The sight of her daughter had Andromeda crying out in relief as she raced across the room and pulled Tonks into her arms.

"Oh Dora!" she cried. "We've been so worried about you! We were thinking the most terrible things!"

Charlie eyed his parents and mouthed the words, '_We?' _Arthur shrugged in response.

Tonks' only response was to roll her eyes and pull away from her mother.

"Why would you be worried about me?" she asked. "I can take care of myself you know."

"That's what I said!" Charlie whispered loudly. Tonks peered over her mother's shoulder and gave the wizard a bright smile.

"I had no idea where you were!" Andromeda said in frustration. She was quickly becoming angry at the fact that no one was taking her seriously. "You could have been lying in a ditch somewhere, hurt or dead! I could have lost you!"

"But I'm right here," Tonks replied, gesturing to her unharmed person. "Safe and sound."

"Yes, well, where were you?" Andromeda sputtered out. "Where did you go?"

Tonks' eyes grew wide for a moment and she hesitated for a moment too long.

"Just for a walk," she said tightly. "In some village or another."

"A walk?" Andromeda repeated blandly. "For five hours? Do you really expect me to believe that?"

"I don't know why you wouldn't," Tonks said defensively. "What reason do I have to lie to you?"

"Dora," Andromeda said carefully, "you weren't out looking for Remus again, were you?" When Tonks didn't respond, her mother continued on, growing increasingly louder as she went on. "I thought we'd been over this. It's not safe for you to be out looking for him, and we both know that –"

"I wasn't looking for Remus," Tonks broke in suddenly. "I just needed to get out of that house. I didn't plan to be gone for so long, but I ran into an old friend, and we got to talking."

"An old friend?" Andromeda asked. "What old friend?"

"You wouldn't know her," Tonks said dismissively. "A witch who I met at the Ministry when I first started there."

Before Andromeda could say anymore, Molly cut in with a smile.

"Well then!" Molly said brightly. "We're glad that you're safe, and you should both stay for supper! There's plenty to go around!" She jumped up from her seat with a cheerful, albeit tired, smile and began to bustle around the kitchen. Tonks eyed her mother warily before moving to sit at the table besides Charlie and Arthur. Andromeda looked as though she had more she wanted to say but she instead sat down at the table as well with an irritated huff.

Soon enough, the table was laden with steaming food and the rest of the Weasleys quickly seated themselves, diving straight in to their meal. For a while, everything seemed normal. It was almost like there wasn't a war going on outside their door, but they all knew that nothing was normal. If it was, there would be so many more people seated around their table, laughing and smiling alongside them.

Tonks wasn't sure when it was that Charlie left the group, but when she did realize, she too snuck away to find the wizard. It didn't take her long to find him though. He was seated on the back steps of the porch, and Tonks looked back at the boisterous group of wizards in the kitchen before slipping onto the porch as well.

She stood in the doorway, her arms wrapped tightly around her bulging stomach, and she shivered a bit in the nippy October wind. The witch didn't say anything or move from her spot, but Charlie seemed to know she was there, because he spoke up after a few minutes, startling Tonks.

"So how is she?" he asked. He didn't turn to look at her, and for a moment, Tonks thought she had imagined the words. Of course, that was until she saw the tense muscles in his shoulders and his twisting hands, and she sighed quietly.

"How's who?" Tonks asked innocently.

"I know it wasn't some witch from the Ministry that you ran into today," Charlie said quietly, "and while my Mum and your Mum may not be able to piece it all together, I certainly can. I know that you went to go see Amy, so please just tell me how she's doing."

Tonks paused for a moment before she made her way towards her former classmate. It took her a few, struggling moments to sit down next to him on the steps, but she finally managed to do it. She looked up at the sky to see several clouds hanging over a half moon.

"She's fine," she said eventually and very carefully. "Miserable but fine."

"Miserable but fine?" Charlie repeated. He eyed Tonks doubtfully. "I didn't realize that was possible."

"She hates that she's not here," Tonks explained. "Hates that she's all the way in America and is doing nothing to help. She hates that she has no idea what's going on, and she's a bit mad at you as well."

"She's mad at me?" Charlie asked. "But doesn't she get that –"

"She's mad at you," Tonks cut in, plowing right over Charlie's words, "But she hates being away from you more than anything else."

These words silenced Charlie and he shut his eyes as he processed what it was that Tonks had told him. He hated to think that she was hurting, but it also filled him with relief – and perhaps a little bit of joy – to know that she missed him too.

"You understand why I asked her to leave though, don't you?" Charlie asked eventually. "Surely you understand why."

"To be honest with you, Charlie," Tonks said carefully, "I really don't." Charlie turned slightly towards Tonks, disappointment and guilt crossing his face as he realized that his former classmate was not on his side.

"I don't understand how you could willingly separate yourself from the one you love," she said softly. "I don't understand how you could leave them and not speak to them."

Charlie looked sharply over at Tonks, unsure as to whether she was still talking about him and Amy. Tonks took no notice of this, however, and continued to speak as she rested her hand on her swollen stomach.

"I don't understand how you can say you love someone and still be able to be away from them, without knowing where they are or what they're doing or if they're okay. I don't understand how you can do that to someone you love. I just don't get it."

"Tonks," Charlie said softly, "Remus is going to come back. He's a good man, an honorable man; he's going to come back."

The witch looked at Charlie with watery eyes and a weary smile.

"That's exactly what Amy told me," she said in a choked breath. "You two must be made for each other or something."

Charlie gave her a weak smile of his own.

"Yeah," he said in a thick voice, "or something."

…..

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Hope you all enjoyed that, and don't forget to review my dears!

Peace in the middle east!

WiseGirl


	71. Chapter 70

**AN:** Hello again! Here's the next installment of Here for You, although I'm a tad iffy about it. It's most certainly a filler, but I thought it could potentially be important later on. Whatever. I'm tired and I still have to finish my summer assignments for school. On Monday. Whatever. Once I get this out, I can go to the next chapter, which is much more fun. Promise.

**Dedication:** I don't know. Whatever.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

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><p><strong>Friday, October 14, 1997<strong>

Amy stood, staring up at the bold and brilliant building before her. She shoved her hands in her pockets and bit her lip as her eyes glossed over the brick wall of the school she had attended through her teen years. The warm brick and the white edging around the windows was so incredibly familiar to her, and for a moment, Amy almost thought that she was a student again, laden with books and quills, and rushing to get to her next class on time. It surprised her how much she missed actually being a student and attending classes and stressing over homework and exams. She never imagined that she could ever think that, and yet, here she was, wishing that she was back in that building, learning and studying alongside her friends.

"It hasn't changed much, has it?"

Serena's voice sounded from behind the witch, and Amy turned to face her with a nostalgic smile.

"No, it certainly hasn't," she agreed. Serena took a few steps forwards so that she was standing next to her old school friend. She was wearing a deep red skirt and cream sweater and collared shirt. Her hair was cropped and she looked very professional and mature. Like Amy, she had come from a Muggle family and had never grown accustomed to wearing robes everywhere. She too preferred to wear Muggle clothes, no matter how odd it seemed to the rest of the Wizarding world.

"But we certainly have," Serena said quietly. She too looked up at the red brick building, remembering the days spent running through the halls and the late nights spent giggling in their dorm.

"Yes we have."

They stood there in silence for a moment before Serena let out a quiet laugh. Amy turned to look at her oddly. She raised an eyebrow in expectation and Serena gave her a wicked smile.

"Remember that time that Blondie ate thirteen bags of Pop Rocks and wouldn't stand still for more than ten seconds?"

Amy paused for a moment as the memory came rushing back to her and she laughed as she remembered how she, Serena, and their other roommate Bridgette had to chase Blondie through the halls, singing at the top of her lungs the entire way.

"How about when Bridgette decided to become a vegetarian and then cried herself to sleep when she realized she couldn't eat bacon anymore?"

"Merlin," Serena laughed, "she was devastated about that."

"She only lasted a week, right?"

"A week and a half," a voice cut in indignantly. "I lasted a week and a half, thank you very much."

Amy and Serena turned around immediately to see a tall woman with reddish blonde curls and hypnotizing blue eyes pouting at them. She had pale skin and her face was dusted with freckles. Just behind her was another woman with blonde hair and green eyes whose face was scrunched up with confusion.

"They weren't Pop Rocks," the blonde corrected in a slow voice. "They were Pixie Stix and to be fair, I had no idea what they were in the first place!"

"Oh yeah," Amy smirked as she crossed her arms over her chest and looked at the blonde, "because it makes perfect sense to eat odd Muggle food that you've never heard of, right Blondie?"

"I was eleven!" The blonde cried dismissively.

"You were seventeen."

"Shut up!"

Amy turned back to Serena and raised an expectant eyebrow.

"See?" she said. "We really haven't grown up."

"It's a bit worse than I feared," the short haired witch said with a frown. "I at least expected us to have matured past the age of thirteen."

Amy and the other two witches shared a look before turning back to Serena.

"Never," they said in unison before breaking out into infectious giggles, which Serena quickly joined in to. When their laughter died down and they had taken in several gasps of breath, Amy smiled brightly at the new arrivals and stepped forward to embrace them.

"It's good to see you," she said. "Both of you. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"And whose fault is that?" Bridgette asked as she pulled away from Amy. She brushed away a strand of red hair from her face and mockingly glared at her friend. "It wasn't us who decided to move to the other side of the world."

"Yeah Amy," Blondie piped up. "Whose idea was it to leave the country and not keep in touch?"

"I kept in touch!" Amy protested. "I wrote letters to you guys!"

"Not about anything important," Bridgette muttered. "It was all, Order this and Order that, and be prepared, and some constant vigilance crap."

"How is that not important?" Amy asked slowly and in slight disbelief. "You do pay attention to the news, right? You do understand what it is that's happening, right?"

"We're not stupid," Bridgette cut in defensively. "We get that things are bad, but wasn't it you that always said that things are easier if you laugh about them? That was practically your motto when we were here."

Amy bit her lip and looked down at her feet.

"A lot of things have changed since we've been here," she said quietly. "I'm not sure if things can be fixed that easily anymore."

"But we can try," Serena spoke up. She took a step forward and placed a comforting hand on Amy's shoulder. She smiled serenely at the witch. "We can certainly try."

"That's why we're here, isn't it?" Blondie piped up. "To try and help out." She let out a laugh like a dying goat. "Figures the British would come to us for help."

Amy eyed the blonde witch with narrowed eyes before turning back to Serena.

"Lead the way, captain?" she asked in a strained voice. Serena smiled in response.

"Why certainly," she said with a slight bow. She held out an arm toward a small village in the distance and gestured for the girls to start heading in that direction. "Right this way."

Standing close together so as to block themselves from the cold wind of the October afternoon, the witches ambled aimlessly over the hills and into the small Wizarding village that rested on the outskirts of the school's grounds. It was a path the girls had taken numerous times before in their youth.

Now as they took it as full grown adults, they couldn't help but realize how good they had it growing up. They went to boarding school, and they learned about magic, and they had complete freedom from their families. Sure, things got rough and complicated, but that didn't change the fact that they were among the lucky in life.

As they entered the little town, Serena led the girls to an out-of-the-way tavern which reminded Amy incredibly of the Three Broomsticks. It was warm and there was a fire blazing in the corner. The barmaid behind the bar was smiling and had ruddy cheeks, and she smiled and waved at the girls who she recognized from their time at the Academy.

On a weekend or any day that the students were free to come to the village, the place was normally packed, but seeing as it was the afternoon of a week day, the bar was uncommonly empty, except for a small group of witches and wizards who had gathered in the back of the bar by the fire.

It didn't take long for the group to notice the newest arrivals of the bar, and when they did, they jumped to their feet and let out a chorus of, "Hey!" and "What's up?" and "Finally!" The girls quickly found themselves being pulled into the group and passed around like toys so that everyone could embrace them and jabber on about meaningless gossip and small talk. Amy eventually managed to pull away from the group and she stepped to the back to observe what it was that was going on.

When Albus Dumbledore had first asked the witch to join the Order he had told her that it was important to develop connections with wizards and witches across the world. They needed to ally themselves with as many people who were willing to help as possible. Dumbledore believed that because Amy had grown up in America and had gone to an American Wizarding school and taught at one as well, she would be an excellent ambassador of sorts. As such, Amy's first 'mission' was to gather as many witches and wizards as she could to aid the Order, and the first thing she had done was contact her friends and classmates from school as well as a few wizards she had met in her youth.

They had all been eager to start working as soon as possible but with the Ministry trying to cover up Voldemort's return during the time and watchful eye that was being kept on Dumbledore and his allies, there was very little they could do. Now that Dumbledore was gone, however, and Voldemort was at large, it was time that they start doing something. That was why Amy had contacted Serena all those weeks ago. She was tired of sitting by and not doing anything, and she figured that they were just as tired and frustrated as she was.

At least she knew they wouldn't try and send her home when danger came.

Eventually, the laughter and chatter began to die down and the group of young adults began to settle into the chairs that had been set up around several tables of drinks. Amy sat down next to Serena and Blondie and she leaned onto the table so that she could peer around at those who had gathered in the bar.

There were thirteen others seated at the table aside from Amy and her old roommates. All of them were around Amy's age, give or take a few years, and they were all people she trusted with her life. Serena, Blondie, and Bridgette had been her roommates during her time at Salem, and the other women at the table had been at Salem at the same time.

There was Celeste, Robyn, Emma, and Jane who had been in the same year as Amy. For seven years, these girls attended the same classes and went through the exact same hardships as Amy. While Amy had been closest with her roommates, these four had been there beside Amy in her classes, and it would be impossible to count the hours that they had spent hunched over books, studying and worrying about assignments and tests, or gossiping about the cute wizard that they had seen in the village the previous weekend.

The remaining two witches at the table were a few years older than the others and had worked with Amy when she had taught here in America. Mara Hudson and Tiffany Baylor had been Amy's colleagues and had helped her survive her few first months of teaching. They were the witches that Amy went to in her times of need and stress. They were also two of the bravest witches Amy knew, and like Amy, they weren't afraid to stand up for what they believed in. If the rumors were true, and Amy suspected that they were, these two witches had fought off their fair share of Dark Wizards during their youth and they certain weren't ones to sit by and let the world fall apart.

The only wizards seated at the table were ones that Amy had met during her time at Salem. There was a small Wizarding school a few towns over from Salem, and sometimes, their village visits would coincide with Salem's. Usually this resulted in girls' coming back to Salem with red lips and hickeys on their neck, and while Amy wouldn't deny that she had been one of those girls once or twice during her youth, she was much more interested in her studies and finding friends than finding dates.

Phillip, Eddie, and Mike had been the stars of their Quidditch team during their time in school. Tall and broad shouldered, these wizards were made of brute strength and muscle, and yet, they somehow managed to maintain enough knowledge in their heads to graduate with honors from school. Of course, that may have had something to do with their amazing tutor for Salem who just so happened to have a soft spot for the kindhearted boys.

Contrasting these sweet brutes were Aaron and Shawn, the resident nerds of the bunch. Though they were just as tall as their jock peers, they were much lankier and had spent their time in school bent over books and studying, and while they might not look it, these two could shoot curses and hexes with greater precision than anyone she knew.

The remaining two wizards actually had no connection at all with the others at the table. To everyone else, they were two complete strangers and outsiders, but for Amy they were pretty darn important, and rather close to her heart.

Thomas and Sam Sheppard had been the first people Amy met when she entered the Wizarding world at the tender age of eleven. She had been taken to the local Wizarding shopping area by a faculty member of Salem before being released with her parents to go and do her shopping for school. While her parents stopped to gawk at every window, Amy had wandered away from them and bumped into the two boys who quickly took her under their Pureblood wings and showed her the town. This set of Twins seemed to always have smiles plastered to their faces and with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes, Amy knew that they would be heartbreakers given time. They didn't care that she was nerdy girl or that she was Muggleborn and had no idea what Quidditch was. All they seemed to care about was that they had someone to show off to and she knew how to laugh, and it was for that reason that the three had remained close throughout the years.

This was the group of witches and wizards that Amy had gathered together, and it was this group that she placed her trust in. She trusted them with more than her own life, but the lives of every witch and wizard she had ever met.

Amy was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't even notice that Serena had stood up until the table went completely silent. She blinked and turned with the rest of the group to look at the witch expectantly. As all eyes settled onto Serena, the witch gulped anxiously, not used to having to speak in front of such a large group.

"Well," she said after a moment of awkward silence. "Hi."

She opened her mouth a few more times but nothing came out, and Amy couldn't help but laugh before she too stood. She clapped a hand onto Serena's shoulder and smiled.

"Thanks for that, Serena," Amy said cheerfully. Serena shrugged and gave a weak smile before sitting down, and all eyes turned now to Amy, who smiled in response. "Perhaps you should stick to writing." The group let out small chuckles and Amy winked at her shy friend. While Serena was good around people and incredibly kind, she was rather shy and not the best public speaker. She was amazing writer, and she let her written words speak for her.

"Like Serena said," Amy began, turning back to the others. "Hi, and I guess thanks for being here. Or something like that. I'm afraid that I'm not really one to give long drawn out speeches or spiels in front of crowds, so I'm just gonna get straight to it.

"The reason you're all here is because of what's going on back in England," Amy said in a matter-of-fact tone. "We all know what it is that's happening over there, and we all know that it's not going well. And that's exactly why we're here, because they need all the help they can get, and you're the only ones I trust to help from this side of the pond."

"The pond?" Eddie piped up, ruffling a hand through his shaggy black hair. "What are you, British now?"

Amy looked wearily at the wizard who shrugged in response.

"No," Amy said slowly, "but that doesn't mean I don't care about the people that are over there, and I'm certainly not going to leave them to fend for themselves."

"Fend for themselves?" Celeste asked. "Against what exactly?"

Amy eyed Serena anxiously.

"Well, against You-Know-Who and his followers," Serena answered simply. She said it as if it were a no brainer, but the others at the table did not seem to think this, because their eyes grew wide.

"You-Know-Who?" Celeste repeated. "I thought that was just a rumor or a story. I didn't think it was real."

"You didn't think it was – " Amy cut herself off as she looked from one person to the next. "You thought it was just rumors?"

Those at the table looked between each other before nodding carefully. Amy let out a laugh of disbelief before slumping into her chair.

"Haven't you been reading the _Time_?" Serena asked. "Or any of Amy's letters?"

"Of course, we have!" Celeste spoke up. "But we just thought that it was a story. It's not like any of those articles are coming from the Ministry over there or else we would have believed it!"

"Of course it's not coming from Ministry!" Amy cried throwing her hands up in the air. "The Ministry's been taken over! You-Know-Who is in control of the entire government and he's not about to go around parading that fact for the entire Wizarding world to know!"

"Wait, wait, wait," Phillip cut in with a wave of his wide hands. "So if You-Know-Who has taken over England, and he's supposedly the most powerful Dark Wizard to every walk the earth, so powerful, in fact, that he was able to kill Albus Dumbledore, what are we supposed to do about it?"

The others nodded in agreement before turning back to Amy. The witch leaned forward in her seat and pressed her elbows against the grainy wood of the bar table.

"First of all," she said in a tight voice. "Albus Dumbledore was murdered by Severus Snape, not You-Know-Who. Second, we're supposed to fight. That's why we're all here, and you know this." Her voice was getting higher and tighter as she looked from face to face. "You all know this."

"So, what?" Aaron asked as he pushed his thick framed glasses up the bridge of his freckled nose. "We're going to form some underground crime-fighting group?"

"Yeah! Like the Avengers!" Blondie chirped up. All eyes turned to the blonde who shrugged her shoulders. "What?"

"Not exactly," Amy said in a tight voice. "When You-Know-Who first rose to power Dumbledore created a secret society of witches and wizards. The purpose of this organization was to oppose You-Know-Who and his followers and recruit as many people who wanted to fight against him. When He returned, Dumbledore restarted the Order and he asked me to contact anyone that I knew here that would want to be part of the cause.

"I explained this all to you two years ago," Amy continued. "You all knew what I was asking and you all agreed to help, and that's what I'm asking you to do. I'm asking you to help me to save all those witches and wizards who are stuck under his control. I have friends over there, and family, and all of my students and co-workers. They need all the help they can get, but if you're not prepared to help, you can get the hell out of here. I vouched for you all long ago; don't make me go back on my word."

"Damn Amy," Emma said quietly. "England changed you."

"It really didn't," Amy laughed. "It wasn't England that changed me, but it did certainly make me realize that we're all in this together. All of us here and everyone over there are in this together. We're all fighting for the same thing, so why shouldn't we fight together?"

For a few minutes, no one said anything. They were trying to figure out what exactly had happened to the Amy they all knew. Sure, this woman talked like Amy and looked like her, but there was a fire or a passion inside of the witch that none of them had ever seen before, and to be quite honest, it scared them, but they couldn't help but love it at the same time. This fiery witch was a full-grown leader, and they couldn't help but want to be one of her followers.

"So where exactly do we start?" Thomas asked in an eager voice. Amy turned to look at him with hopeful eyes. "I mean, now that you've entranced us all, what is it you want us to do?" He smiled encouragingly at the witch who couldn't help but smile in return. Turning her attention to the others gather around the table, they all smiled at her as well and looked at her eager.

"You've got all of our attention," Sam agreed with his Twin. "Let's do this."

"Do we get a cool name or something?" Mike piped up from the back. "I think we should get a name for ourselves. Something that rolls of the tongue."

"Yeah!" Robyn agreed, practically bouncing in her seat. "Something like the Dark Wizards Hunters!"

"Witches and Wizards Against Evil?"

"Defense Association?"

"We Hate You-Know-Who?"

"I thought you said you wanted it to be cool."

"Yeah, so it should be the Legion of Light."

"Or the Freedom Eagles!" Shawn said confidently.

All eyes turned to the wizard whose grin slid from his face at their stares.

"Or not the Freedom Eagles," he said in a quiet voice. He pressed his lips together and slouched in his seat and Amy couldn't help but smile.

"The Order of the Phoenix," she said after a moment. The eyes turned back to her and they watched her smile coyly and stare blindly at the table. She looked up after a minute and smiled again.

"We're the Order of the Phoenix."

…..

"So, I think that went rather well," Serena said as she and Amy made their way out of the bar. "I think we may actually be able to do this."

Amy turned her head to look carefully at the witch beside her.

"Oh yeah," Amy said sarcastically, "it went super well in between the bickering over a stupid name and who would do what shift and what I meant when I was talking about forming a guard and getting more recruits. It went really well."

"Okay, okay," Serena said, throwing up her hands, "it could have gone better, but they don't really get it yet. Once they understand everything things will start running more smoothly."

"It better," Amy muttered. They came to the edge of the village and Amy stopped and turned to look Serena in the eye.

"And you're sure you can handle this, right?" she asked. "I wish I could stay longer, but I have to be back in time for my shift at work."

"We'll figure it all out," Serena said reassuringly. "Are you sure you can't stay a little longer though?"

Amy shook her head.

"I really can't," she said honestly. "It was hard enough to get someone to cover my shift for this morning. I can't just not show up for the night shift too."

"You could always come work here," Serena said in a light voice. "There's an open desk at the _Times_, and I could put in a good word or two for you. You know I'm good with words."

"Yes, you are," Amy agreed, "But I really can't."

"Why not?" Serena asked in an uncharacteristically whiny voice. "It would be just like old times. It would be fun." She nudged Amy in the side and nodding eagerly, and Amy couldn't help but laugh.

"I wish I could," she said apologetically, "but it's not the best time for me to be leaving Chicago."

Serena sighed and pouted.

"Well," she said in a despondent voice, "if you change your mind, you know where to find me."

"I certainly do," Amy said with a smile. She leaned forward and embraced Serena tightly. When they pulled apart, she looked Serena in the eye and smiled again. "I'll be back in two weeks. Think you can hold down the fort?"

Serena saluted Amy and winked.

"Aye, aye Captain," she said sternly. Amy smirked before taking several steps back and turning on her heel, Apparating away.

…..

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Short and sweet, just what I hate.

Peace out, Girl Scout!

WiseGirl


	72. Chapter 71

**AN:** Hello again! Look who's back less than twenty-four hours later! That's right. It's me! I figured I should give you all a little gift before school starts. I officially start school tomorrow morning, bright and early, and I'm sure that I'm just gonna be consumed by homework. I'm taking three APs this year, one of which is a double block, so my life is gonna be pretty crazy. Hopefully, though, I'll find time to keep writing, or maybe with this new health regime I'm starting I'll throw in a WiseGirl-personal-writing regime as well. Whatever, I just figured that I'd post this chapter while it was still fresh (and long!)

**Dedication:** To the amazing, albeit foolish, class of 2015! Let's get this junior year party started! What what! Go Grizzlies!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

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><p><strong>Thursday, December 25, 1997<strong>

Amy sighed and burrowed herself deeper into the warmth of her blankets and pillows. Her knees were pulled up to her chest and her blanket was up around her ears. It had been too long since she had been able to sleep in, and nothing in the world was going to drag her out of bed –

_BANG_

The door to Amy's bedroom burst open and the witch didn't even have enough time to open her eyes or grab her wand before several bodies jumped on top of her. Amy groaned and tried to squirm her way off the bed but the several pairs of feet that were bouncing up and down on top of her prevented her from doing so.

Finally, after several times of being kicked in the head and having the wind knocked out of her, Amy sat up and grabbed onto the closest pair of feet to her. There was a squawk and then a tumbling body that fell crosswise over Amy which was quickly followed by two other bodies that fell across her as well. Amy groaned as the wind came tumbling out of her in a loud gasp and groan.

As Katherine, Georgie, and Michelle groaned and rubbed their now sore bodies, Amy crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow in expectation.

"Well?" she asked in her upset-teacher voice. "What was that about?" The three women stopped rubbing their heads to look at each other before back at their grumpy friend, and they smiled brightly.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!" they cheered in one loud voice, which Amy found to be splitting at this early morning time. She flinched and rubbed her now aching ear.

"Yeah, yeah," she said grumpily. "Merry Christmas and all that crap."

"Well," Katherine said as she sat up at the other side of the bed. "Aren't you a happy camper?"

"Sorry if I don't like being woken up at the ass-crack of dawn to a group of screaming banshees," Amy drawled. She yawned loudly and leaned back into her pillows. "Now, can the screaming banshees leave and let me sleep a bit longer?"

The trio shared another look between each other before saying in eerie unison, "Nope!" and they jumped off her bed, grabbing the witch by her hands and pulling her off the bed. Michelle and Katherine sat Amy down in her desk chair while Georgie zoomed around the room, gathering up whatever articles of clothing she could find and flinging it at the witch. When Amy was thoroughly buried under a mountain of fabric, Georgie stopped and put her hands on her hips.

"Alright, so you're going to put that on," Georgie ordered, "and then we're gonna go party."

"Party?" Amy's muffled voice sounded from beneath the pile of clothes. "On Christmas? Where are we going to party on Christmas?"

"Uh bars!" Georgie responded in a 'duh' voice. "Where else?"

Amy pushed away the clothing until her face was visible and she peered at Georgie with a confused look.

"Bars?" she repeated. "What bar is open on Christmas?"

"The best kind of bar!" Georgie responded with a cheer. She let out a battle cry which Katie and Michelle quickly responded to. Amy winced and looked at her childhood friends wearily.

"Guys," Amy said through a yawn, "I am not one for Christmas drinking and you know my Mom won't let me out on Christmas. It's family time or something like that."

"Not this year!" Michelle piped up cheerfully. "We have special orders to take you out and not return you until you're thoroughly drunk and filled with Christmas cheer."

"And this order came directly from my mother?" Amy asked. Her expression and voice all read that she doubted them entirely. The girls exchanged uneasy looks, not exactly sure what it was they should say.

"Not necessarily in those words exactly," Katie admitted eventually, "but that was gist of it."

"Which means," Georgie broke in before Amy could say anything else, "that you need to get off of your lazy butt and put some clothes because we're gonna get wasted." She let out another whoop before grabbing onto her friends' arms and dragging them from the room so that Amy could change.

Once her door was shut firmly behind them, Amy let out another groan and pushed the pile of clothes off of her so that she could flop down onto her bed and burrow into her blankets. She could still hear the girls in the other room and she really wished that she couldn't. The past few weeks had been exhausting. In between working double shifts at the Grill and jumping back and forth between her family and friends in Chicago and the Order in Salem, Amy was beyond tired. She could probably sleep for a few days in a row and still want to take a nap.

She wasn't in the partying mood and she hadn't been in a long time. The witch had expected that her mother would attempt to pull her out of bed and join in the holiday festivities and she would have grudgingly gone along with it too, but she wasn't sure that she was up for the adventure that was drinking and partying with Georgie and the others. She'd really like to just lie in bed and let the holidays pass without notice, but she knew that she would never get away with that, not while she was still friends with Georgie Kotas at least.

As though to reaffirm this, there was a loud knock on the door that had Amy jumping and breathing hard.

"You've got three minutes there, Wyman," Georgie's voice called through the wood of the door. "And then I'm coming in and dragging you out to a bar no matter what it is that you're wearing."

Knowing that she was telling the truth and that she wouldn't care if the witch was only in her underwear, Amy rolled out of her bed and struggled over to the pile of clothes and began to pull them on in a sleep induced stupor.

"Merry Christmas," Amy muttered under her breath as she pulled on an obnoxious green and red sparkly top. "Merry Freakin' Christmas."

…..

The bar was plastered with hastily put together decorations and the floor was littered in gum wrappers and nut shells. The place was mainly empty except for a few others who had been desperate enough and fortunate enough to escape from the clutches of their family on this particular holiday. There was a television on in the corner and there was a radio crooning in the background of the muttered chatter and banging of glasses on counters.

Amy plopped down into the seat of her fourth bar chair and watched as a middle-aged man with a pot-belly and wearing a Santa hat dropped off their first round of drinks. He winked cheerfully at the girls before walking away to go and deal with the other customers who had gathered for some festive drinking.

"I think he may have been the most attractive one yet," Amy said blandly as she downed one of the shots as quickly as she could. "Make sure to give him a good tip for rocking a Santa hat."

"See!" Georgie said brightly as she shook Amy's arm excitedly. "You're getting into the spirit of things!"

Amy eyed Georgie from the corner of her eye and scowled a bit.

"More like I've accepted the inevitable," Amy grumbled from behind the lip of her glass.

"Ouch!" Michelle protested. She pressed her hand to her chest mockingly and winced as though she was in pain. "You make it sound like hanging with us is an obligation or something."

"Well," Amy said with a pointed look, "it is in the Best Friends Forever job description. All that fine print, you know?"

"So is having fun," Katie cut in, "but you seem to be ignoring that part of the job." She pointed a manicured finger at Amy teasingly.

"Oh no!" Amy protested suddenly. "I'm having loads of fun!" Her words were so incredibly sincere and her eyes so wide and truthful that it took the others by surprise and they glanced between each other with wide eyes.

"You are?" Michelle asked uncertainly. She cocked her head and her forehead scrunched together in confusion.

Oh yeah!" Amy said and she nodded vehemently. "I've been planning your deaths for the past hour now, and it's so much fun! I've gotten really creative too, so I hope you all enjoy choking on tinsel."

She smiled wickedly and the others glared at her.

"Oh fantastic," Katie spoke up, "we've driven her completely over the murderous brink." She grabbed one of the shots and downed as though it were her last.

"Is that really a surprise though?" Georgie asked. "She's always been a bit different. Special might be a good word for it."

"Yeah, real special," Michelle said from behind her drink. "_Really _special."

"I'm still right here, you know" Amy said, gesturing to herself. "I can hear everything you're saying."

"That's the point, Amy-Boo," Georgie said wearily. "You're supposed to hear us."

"You know, I could just go home," Amy said snippily. "I don't have to be here right now."

When the girls said nothing in response, Amy rolled her eyes and brushed several curls away from her face in frustration. She knew the girls all meant well, but she was really getting tired of all the teasing and jokes and the incessant, "Lighten up! Have fun!" speeches that they were always giving to her. She got that they were just trying to cheer her up, but it was getting old and it was driving her up the wall.

"Let me ask you something," Georgie said suddenly, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over the friends. The girls turned to look at Georgie hesitantly, but she took no notice. "What would you be doing if you weren't here?"

"What?" Amy asked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what would you be doing if you weren't here?" Georgie repeated. "If you weren't here with us having so much fun and being the life of the party, what would you be doing?"

"I don't know," Amy said dismissively. "Sleeping or something."

"No, no," Georgie interrupted. "That's not what I meant."

"Then please," Amy said coolly. "Clarify."

"What would you be doing if you weren't here in Chicago with us? What would you be doing if you were back in England?"

Amy sat back in her chair and blinked in surprise. She looked between her friends with a furrowed brow, expecting one of them to cut Georgie off and tell her that she had crossed a line, but they refused to meet Amy's eye. They wanted to know Amy's answer just as much as Georgie did.

The witch finally turned her attention back onto Georgie who looked at her expectantly.

"Tell us, Amy," Georgie spoke up from behind her glass of booze. "If you were in England right now, working at that school and doing whatever else it is that you do over there, how would you be spending your holidays? Where would you be right now if you were there?"

The brunette raised a sculpted eyebrow as she waited for the witch to respond. Amy swallowed and stared down into the murky depths of her drink, watching the colors swirl around and around. Georgie smirked a bit and shook her head. She looked over at Katie and Michelle and rolled her eyes, believing that this was Amy's answer.

"That's what I –"

"I'd probably be sitting on the floor," Amy cut in suddenly and without warning.

Georgie blinked in surprise and the others turned to look at Amy with wide eyes. She was still staring at her drink, watching as it swirled absentmindedly in her glass.

"Sitting on the floor?" Michelle repeated uneasily. She squirmed in her chair and looked over at the others. "Why would you be sitting on the floor?"

Amy didn't respond for a moment and she ran a finger of the rim of her glass.

"I'd be sitting on the floor," Amy said carefully, "because I'd be too full of Molly's amazing dinner to pick myself up and the Twins would have made me sit down and test out one of their new products, or I would have been trying to beat Ron at chess for once, or I'd be buried in wrapping paper and choking down laughter as Bill and Charlie arm-wrestled while Arthur tried to figure out whatever Muggle device he received as a gift and Molly and Fleur bickered like always.

"I'd be sitting on the floor because I would want to be in the middle of everything. I would want to hear everything that they were saying and I would want to be a part of everything, and they would want me to be a part of everything too."

Her voice was distant and dreamy as though she was telling the girls a wish or fantasy, and the girls couldn't help but think that they were intruding on something incredibly private. It was as though she had been thinking about this for days, maybe weeks. Yet none of them had the courage to stop her and they listened intently as she went on.

"Molly would eventually try to send us up to bed," Amy continued. "But we would all protest and insist that we have another glass of eggnog and Ron would want to play another round of chess against another loser, and Ginny would want to stay up later so that she could keep talking to Harry, and Charlie would be wanting her to go to bed so that she couldn't talk to him, and Hermione would be hunched over a new book, and Bill and Fleur would be wrapped up in each other's arms, and eventually, I would pull Charlie away from his siblings and make him sit there with me and we'd talk or laugh or just sit there. We'd all be so incredibly oblivious to what was happening around us, and we'd be warm, and full, and safe, and happy."

Amy looked up suddenly with bright eyes and she looked the others straight on.

"That's what I'd be doing if I was there," she said with a faint smile. "That's what I'd be doing."

She sniffled a bit but didn't take her hands away from her glass. Katie, Michelle, and Georgie looked at each other uncomfortably, not sure what it was that they were supposed to say to that. Were they supposed to say anything in response to that? Should the comfort her? Offer her a tissue? Get her a stronger drink?

In all their years of friendship, this was not an Amy that they had come upon. They had met snippy Amy, and frustrated Amy, and pissed-off Amy, but they hadn't met this one… This broken down and downtrodden Amy.

Was this even Amy?

"Sounds like you'd be having fun," Michelle said quietly and after several long minutes. She swallowed thickly and looked at the others anxiously as though wondering if she should say anymore. "More fun than you're having here with us as a matter-of-fact."

Amy didn't say anything in response but merely shrugged. She didn't know what she was supposed to say. She was at just a big a loss as the rest of them as to what to say. She was usually the mother hen of the group. She was the sarcastic one, the realistic one, the one with all the answers, and now she had none.

There was a loud course of cheers from the corner of the bar as whatever sports team was playing scored, and the girls looked up and watched the grown men jump up and down, sloshing their drinks down their fronts. They looked back at each other after a moment, fighting to hold down their smiles and giggles, but the second they met each other's eyes, they were lost in a fit of giggles and gasping breaths.

When they finally managed to regain their breath, Amy set down her drink and made sure that she was looking each of her childhood friends in the eye as she said her next words.

"I am having fun," she said earnestly. "It may not seem like it but I am. I love you guys, and I love spending time with you, and some days it almost feels like it did before I went away to school. But I have to keep in mind that it isn't anything like that, and it makes sad to know what things will probably never be like that again, but I am having fun, right now in this instance. I really am."

The trio of girls looked at each other with bright eyes before they turned their attention back to the witch.

"We love you too," Katie said sincerely, and Amy smiled brightly for what felt like the first time in weeks.

"We love you so much, in fact," Michelle said brightly, "that we'll even let you buy the next round."

"Because we love you," Georgie said again. "Remember that."

They smiled innocently at the witch and Amy bit down on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing.

"Right," she said, fighting back a smile, "because you love me."

The others nodded cheerfully and Amy rolled her eyes in amusement before raising her hand and gesturing for the pot-bellied bartender to bring another round, smiling all the while. She knew she should be upset, and she was still a little, deep down, but she also knew that she needed to start appreciating things when she had them. If the past few years had taught her anything, it was that the things she loved could be torn away from her in an instant, and she didn't think she could live with herself if she knew she hadn't appreciated what she had when she had it.

So she bought the next round of drinks, and the round after that, and the round after that. And when the giggling group of girls finally stumbled out of that bar, she made sure to leave a fairly large tip for the pot-bellied bartender in his little, red, velvet Santa hat.

…..

It was late in the afternoon when Georgie finally agreed that they could quit the bar scene and return back to the Wyman household. They had hit probably eight different bars, and quite frankly, Amy was surprised that they had any liquor left after the girls had gone through them.

"I'm sure your parents have some heavy liquor hidden somewhere," Georgie said hopefully. "And maybe some pie."

"Mmm pie," Michelle said. "Pie and liquor. The best combination of anything ever."

The four were on their way up the porch steps of the Wyman household when Amy heard her name being called. Turning, the witch saw her next door neighbor, Sheryl, waving enthusiastically at the girl. She had a package in her hand and was smiling brightly. While the others continued up the steps, Amy stopped and went back down a few so that she could meet the older woman.

"I'm glad I caught you," Sheryl greeted as she approached the younger girl. "I've been waiting for you and I was just about to head back inside."

"Waiting for me?" Amy asked politely. "Is something wrong?"

"No no!" Sheryl protested with a laugh. "It's just that I have a package for you." She held out the bundle in her hands which was wrapped in brown paper and tied with a red bow. There was no tag on it, and Amy took it carefully in her hands. She turned it over a few times, looking for a name or return address, but there was none. She couldn't help but think of the last time someone she knew had received a blank package, and she wondered for a moment whether there something dangerous in the seemingly harmless bundle.

"The person who dropped it off was going to leave it on your porch, but I told him that I would pass it onto you," Sheryl explained. "I wouldn't want it to go missing or to have something happen to it, and he was very grateful about it, though he kept saying that he hated to bother me or take any time out of my day. I told him that it was nothing, that I had known you your entire life. He was a very nice young man, very polite."

Amy looked up from the package, her grip tightening unconsciously over it as Sheryl's words struck her.

"Young man?" she repeated slowly. "What young man?"

Sheryl laughed.

"The one who dropped off the package, dearie," she said with a pat on Amy's arm. "Very handsome too."

Amy opened her mouth to say something but was cut off from several voices behind her.

"Amy!" Georgie cried impatiently. She was jumping on her feet and rubbing her arms. "C'mon! We're freezing up here!" The witch waved dismissively at them and ignored their disgruntled mutters. She was still caught up in the mysterious package deliverer.

Sheryl didn't seem to catch Amy's bewilderment because she kept talking.

"Yes he was very handsome and very charming too," she gushed. "And he had this wonderful accent as well. You must be one lucky girl, Amy." The woman winked and patted Amy on the arm again. The witch was still at a loss for words as she tried to understand everything that Sheryl was telling her.

"I told him that you'd be home soon and that he could give it to you himself but he just shook his head and told me, 'Happy Holidays,' before he rushed off. I thought it was a bit odd, but I figured everyone's a tad strange during the holiday season.

"I should let you go, though," Sheryl concluded in a cheerful voice, completely unaware that she had confused Amy to no end. "Your friends look like they're about to freeze to death. Merry Christmas dear!" She waved at the girls behind Amy and turned to walk away. Amy looked down at the package again, squeezing it tightly in her hands before jumping down the last few steps and following after Sheryl. She could hear Georgie and the others protesting and telling her to come back, but she ignored them.

"Sheryl!" Amy cried. "Sheryl, wait!"

The woman turned on the middle of the sidewalk, surprised to see the younger woman sprinting towards her. Her face was red and her eyes bright as she rushed down the sidewalk.

"Amy, what's the matter?" she asked as the witch skidded to a halt in front of her. "What's wrong?"

"What – What color?" she gasped out. She was clutching the package closely to her chest as she stared to older woman desperately in the eye.

Sheryl cocked her head.

"What color?" she repeated. Amy nodded vigorously.

"What color hair did he have?" she asked eagerly. She grabbed onto the woman's arm and held on for dear life. Sheryl blinked and looked slightly concerned at Amy's frazzled appearance but then she smiled slightly and placed her hand over Amy's.

"Red," she told her.

Amy felt like the wind had been knocked out of her and she held the package closer to her chest.

"Red," she repeated breathlessly. Sheryl nodded.

"Yes," she said gently. "He had red hair and bright blue eyes."

Amy nodded and let out a breathy laugh. She looked down at the brown package in her hands in disbelief. Suddenly she looked up and she gave the other woman a dazzling smile.

"Thank you, Sheryl," she said earnestly. "And Merry Christmas."

The witch turned away and walked eagerly back to her house, a newfound bounce in her step. Sheryl stared after the girl, and she let out a little laugh.

"Oh to be young," she said with a chuckle before turning and continuing down the sidewalk to her home.

When Amy made it back to her house, Katie, Georgie, and Michelle were seated on the steps of her house, talking grumpily amongst each other. When they saw the witch coming towards them, they jumped up and put their hands on their hips as they scowled at her.

"What the hell?" Michelle said. "You just left us to freeze out here!"

"Yeah!" Katie agreed. "I can barely feel my fingers! Or my nose for that matter!"

"Sorry about that," Amy broke in before they could say anything else. She tucked the package under her arm and brushed past the girls so that she could unlock the door. "I just had to talk to Sheryl for a moment."

"Where'd you get the package?" Georgie asked as they followed Amy into the warmth of her house. Her family waved in greeting to the girls before returning to their conversation and Amy turned to look at the girls with a slight smile.

"Sheryl just wanted to give me something as a thank you," she said lightly. "For watching her grandkids a few weeks ago."

Before the girls could ask anything else, they were pulled into the warmth of the Wyman family and their questions on the package and Amy died away as they allowed themselves to be consumed in the Christmas cheer.

…..

Sometime later, Amy managed to get a few minutes to herself. The girls were distracted by the decadent foods that her mother had made, and they were eagerly stuffing themselves on pies and chocolates. The rest of the Wyman family was distracted by their gifts, and Amy settled herself into a quiet corner of the room, the package settled on her lap. She fingered the frayed red ribbon, rubbing the thin material between the pads of her fingers, before she pulled on one end and the cheerful bow came undone.

As the bow unraveled under her fingers, Amy slowly unwrapped the brown paper, careful not to rip it in her eagerness. The paper fell away to reveal a bundle of rich blue yarn. With careful fingers, Amy set aside the red ribbon and lifted the bundle up. She shook it out a bit to reveal the bundle to be a knit sweater with a silver **A **on the front of it. She rubbed her fingers against the soft material and pulled it closer to her body, burrowing her face into the stitches.

She inhaled deeply and was met with a comforting smell of home and fresh laundry. She shut her eyes and allowed the scent to envelop her and pull her into its depths as she hugged the sweater to her chest.

Something fluttered against her knee, and Amy grudgingly opened her eyes to see a small, folded piece of parchment next to her foot. With a furrowed brow, the witch leaned down to pick it up, and with trembling fingers, she opened the paper and felt her heart beat race at the simple words written on the scrap.

_Amy,_

_Mum made this for you a long time ago. She wanted you to have it this Christmas._

_Stay safe. I love you._

_-Charlie_

Slowly, Amy ran her fingers over the words, tracing the loops and turns. She reread the words until they were burned into her brain and then she reread them again. For a moment she thought that it was all a dream, that this wasn't really happening, but then she felt the yarn beneath her fingers, the stitches made with careful and unyielding motherly love, and she knew that nothing more real had ever existed than this love.

"Hey Amy!"

The witch looked up, blinking rapidly and looking around with wide eyes as though she had just been awoken from a trance.

Eric was sitting a few feet away from her, gesturing with one of his large hands for her to come over.

"C'mon," he said cheerfully, "we're gonna play Monopoly, and you know you want to join. And plus – " he held up a small silver thimble, "– I saved you your favorite piece."

Amy smiled faintly.

"Be there in a moment," she said softly. Eric smiled and turned back to the rest of the family. With everyone's attention elsewhere, Amy carefully folded the sweater up and placed it under several boxes and presents that she had gotten from her family. She stood up and was about to put the note down next to the sweater, but she stopped herself. She could hear her family behind her, eager to start the game, but at the same time, she could almost hear the crackle of the fire and the laughter of the Twins and the warbled singing of Celestina Warbeck of her other family while Charlie held her tightly and whispered into her ear.

She forced herself out of these thoughts, however, knowing that she couldn't let herself think too much on that. Amy needed to not think of them. She needed to let go of the Weasleys and focus on her own family for now. They needed her just as much as the Weasleys did, and while she couldn't be of any help to the ginger family at that moment, she could be of help to her own family.

Despite this, Amy couldn't find it within herself to stuff the letter away. Instead she tucked it into her pocket as she made her way over to her family.

Maybe she didn't have to let all of that family go right now.

…..

When everyone had left and the Wyman house was quiet and night had settled in, Amy retired to her bedroom, wishing her family a good night. They all smiled and told her the same, not noticing the peculiar look in her eye or the bundle under her arm.

As she lie in bed that night, snuggled in her blankets and warm in her love-made sweater, Amy couldn't help but think that maybe everything would be alright. And she also couldn't help but think of the charming, red-headed man who had delivered this present to her and the abounding amount of love she had for him.

She fell asleep that night with her nose pressed against the sleeve of the sweater and her pillow clutched close to her chest and dreamed of her other family and the fun they would have had that day.

…..

**Wednesday, December 31, 1997**

"Are you sure I can't get you a drink, babe? Only payment is a little kiss."

Amy rolled her eyes before plastering a fake smile to her face as she turned to look at the drunken party-goer who was smirking cheekily at her.

"I'm sure," she said brightly and in a very fake voice. "Keep the drink for yourself. You look like you could use it buddy." She patted him on the chest before turning away from him and heading back to the table in the corner of the bar. She heaved herself up onto a stool and took a long, deep sip from her glass as she glowered at those around her.

"I hate New Year's," she said eventually. "I hate drunk people."

"I'll drink to that!" Rose said with a smile as she slammed back the rest of her beer. She wobbled slightly on her stool and Dave wrapped an arm around her shoulder to steady his wife. Amy rolled her eyes in response to her sister's antics before turning her attention to the others around the table.

Eric was seated with his back to them, talking animatedly to several women at the next table. Michelle and Richard were wrapped up in each other, paying no attention to anyone else, while Georgie and Katie were off dancing with some guys that they had picked up for the night. It looked like it was going to be another night of lonely drinking and being hit on by drunken strangers for the witch, so she settled in and took another sip of her drink.

All around her, people were laughing and celebrating the pass of another year, and all Amy could think about was that she'd rather be sitting in a quiet room, surrounded by a gaggle of redheads and full of delicious desserts, than partying with her friends.

This wish only strengthened as yet another guy brushed behind her, pressing himself much too close to her back than she ever could have wished. Amy rolled her eyes and squirmed in her seat so that she was sitting on the very edge of her seat, far out of reach from the prying hands of drunken slobs and perverts. What she wouldn't give to be back in bed with her book and peaceful silence.

"Having fun?" Dave asked from his side of the table. Amy shot him an evil look and sneered.

"Loads of fun," she replied sarcastically. "Most fun I've ever had in my life."

"That's the spirit!" Dave cheered, choosing to ignore the witch's cynicism and be as cheerful as possible. He took a sip of his own drink and Amy eyed him darkly. Whatever holiday spirit she may have had was used up with her Christmas day out with the girls. She had hoped that would be enough for all of them, but her family has insisted that she come along. They refused to let her say anything different and they told her repeatedly that they would be horrible people if they let her stay home by herself – Ann and Alan had gone to a work party and wouldn't be home until late. They kept telling her that she should be young while she still could and that they wouldn't allow her to become a crazy cat lady.

They bothered her for days about going and she finally caved just so that they would shut the hell up. It had worked for a short time, but now that she was out with them, they were using every opportunity they could to badger the girl and try and make her into a happier person.

Based on the sour look on the witch's face, they had yet to succeed, and they were beginning to doubt that they ever would succeed.

As the song that was blaring over the speakers died away, Amy caught sight of Georgie and Katie making their way back to their secluded table. They had their arms wrapped around each other and they were laughing uproariously at who knows what. They stopped only when they stumbled into the table, nearly knocking Amy's drink down her front, and they continued to laugh like hyenas.

"Oh my gosh," Georgie finally gasped out. She threw herself across the table and latched onto Amy's arm. "You should have seen this guy out there." She gestured vaguely to the dance floor behind her, but she didn't say anything else as she dissolved into giggles once more.

Amy turned to look at Katie, hoping to get some sort of answer out of the blonde, but she too was laughing uncontrollably.

"It – It – was – chicken – throne – grass – " she gasped out unintelligibly. Georgie and Katie slumped against each other and continued to giggle and choke on their laughter.

Amy turned to eye Rose and Dave who were staring at the laughing girls in utter confusion at their weirdness.

All of a sudden, Katie sat up and stopped laughing.

"Wait!" she cried with wide eyes. Everyone looked at her, and a smile broke out suddenly across her face. "This is my favorite song!"

She jumped up and ran off with a girlish scream, almost bowling over several dancers as she raced to the dance floor. Georgie jumped to her feet as well, but she didn't leave. Instead she hurried around the table and grabbed onto Amy's arm and began to tug on it incessantly.

"C'mon!" she cried as she pulled with all of her might. "You have to dance at least once! C'mon!"

Amy gripped onto the table and shook her head vehemently.

"No!" she protested. "Really Georgie! I really don't want to!"

Georgie continued to tug on her arm though, almost pulling it out of its socket in the process.

"One dance!" she begged. "Just one and then you can come back to your hidey hole!" She looked up with pleading eyes but Amy just shook her head again.

"Georgie, no!" Amy insisted. She gave a mighty tug and pulled her arm from her friend's grasp. The brunette pouted and looked despondent but she shrugged her disappointment off with ease.

"Your loss," she said before turning and throwing herself into the crowd of dancers in search of Katie.

Amy watched the crowd of drunken adults dancing around each other for several minutes. Part of her wished she could be just as carefree as the rest of them, but she also knew that she would hate to be as ignorant as the rest of them as well.

The witch stood up suddenly and downed the last of her drink. She wiped at her mouth before turning her attention to those still at the table.

"I'm gonna go get some air!" Amy cried over the music. Her family and friends didn't seem to hear her though as they were all wrapped up in their personal lives, and Amy rolled her eyes before squeezing her way through the crowd of party-goers.

Amy found her way out to the balcony of the club, which was just as crowded as the rest of place. Eventually though, Amy managed to squeeze her way past the drunk couples and to the edge of the balcony. She was pressed up against the metal bars with a drink in her hand. She could still clearly hear the shouts and music from within but she pushed it all away as she focused on the sky and the moon.

Looking down into the streets below her, Amy was able to see every pedestrian making their way around the streets. They were laughing and pushing each other around, completely ignorant to everything around them and Amy wished again that she was like them.

For a moment, Amy wished that she had never met Charlie Weasley or anyone else in England. She wished for a moment that she hadn't come to England. She wished for a moment that she wasn't a witch.

She could almost see what it would be like if she hadn't been a witch. She would have continued going to Muggle school with Georgie, Katie, and Michelle, and she would have graduated from her neighborhood high school with honors before going off to college and she'd party and have boyfriends and she'd live a typical Muggle college life. She'd probably graduated with a major in English or creative writing or maybe she would be a teacher or a doctor or a police officer. Maybe she'd move to New York or Boston or Malibu or somewhere else that was just as exciting.

She probably would have met some handsome Muggle who was kind to his mother and held the door open for her and made Amy laugh and maybe they'd fall in love and get married and have kids together and they'd never have to worry about being killed by a Dark Wizard or being captured by Death Eaters. All they'd have to worry about is what school they would send their kids to and who would pick them up from soccer practice or ballet practice or something else mundane like that.

And that moment of wishing was gone and Amy scolded herself for ever thinking that there could possibly be a man out there as perfect for her as Charlie Weasley, because in all honesty, there wasn't and never would be.

She wasn't that dorky Muggle girl with glasses who constantly had her nose in a book anymore. She was Amy Wyman, professor of Charms at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, leader of the American branch of the Order of the Phoenix, and she was in love, right then and forever more, with Charlie Weasley. No war would change that, and no amount of wishing that she was normal would either.

There was a hush from inside the bar and the music quieted as the DJ took up a microphone.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen!" he cried. "Here's the moment we've all been waiting for! The countdown! All together now!"

Amy took a sip of her drink and looked back up at the cloudy sky.

"TEN!"

Looking down, Amy could see crowds beginning to form on the street as everyone gathered together to ring in the New Year.

"NINE!"

People were still jostling around her, jumping up and down as they drew close to their friends and continued to party.

"EIGHT!"

Someone bumped into Amy and almost pushed her over the edge of the balcony in their excitement. She turned to tell them off but they had already disappeared into the crowd and she shook it off in exasperation, turning back to look over city.

"SEVEN!"

The sky line was bright despite the fact that clouds covered the sky and there was snow drifting around her.

"SIX!"

Chicago itself was bright and it looked as though every house was lit up like a lantern. Or, Amy thought with a slight smile, like the ceiling of the Great Hall on Halloween.

"FIVE!"

Amy wondered what it was that her students were doing at this exact moment and she hoped that they were safe inside the walls of the castle.

"FOUR!"

Amy looked up at the moon and hoped that everyone back in England was safe and sound, celebrating in the warmth of their homes with their loved ones.

"THREE!"

She wondered for a moment whether Remus had ever come home to Tonks and whether or not Bill and Fleur were at the Burrow or celebrating their first New Year's together alone, and she wondered if Charlie was happy.

"TWO!"

Amy wondered if she should go back to her friends and family, but then she figured that they wouldn't miss her for some time. Not as long as there was drinks and partying to be had and done.

"ONE!"

Fireworks erupted in the distance, and the sky was quickly sprayed in a shower of bright colors and sparkles as the city let out a single cheer.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR'S!"

Behind her, Amy heard the DJ turn the music up again and the cheers continued on. There was laughter, and screams, and Amy desperately wished that she was just another one of the couples that was sharing their first kiss of the new year at that moment.

"Happy New Year's, Charlie," Amy murmured at the moon. "I hope it's a great one."

…..

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Hope you all enjoyed. Rather fluffy, but fluff is good. I'm not here to write mindblowing literary fiction after all. I think I'll stick to good ol' commercial fiction. Much more fun, isn't it? Anyway, don't forget to review everyone! I'd really appreciate any thoughts you may have!

Peace out!

WiseGirl


	73. Chapter 72

**AN:** Hello my super, awesome readers! I'm back, and I think this may be the fastest I've ever updated since restarting to school! Yay me! So, I would have spent more time on this chapter, but I'm a bit lost, and to be quite honest, I really just want to get back to "Chamy" aspect of the story (oh, yeah. Did I tell you that one of my lovely, wonderful, phenomenal readers/reviewers who shall remain nameless (_coughcough_ mallowmarsh _coughcough_) created a shipping name for this story. You guys are the best). Anyway, I figure the quicker I update this, the quicker I can get to the fun stuff. This chapter kind of went all over the place but that's because I did it in bits and pieces that weren't necessarily in chronological order and - oh, who the fuck cares. Let's get to the exciting stuff.

I MET JOE WALKER TONIGHT. That's right, I, WiseGirl2772, met the wonderful Joe Walker tonight as well as Lauren Lopez and Jeff Blim, and while I didn't get a chance to speak/met them, I was in the same room (heck the same _breathing space_) as Meredith Stepien, Denise Donovan, Nick Lang, Daniel Strauss, and so many Starkids. Not to mention, Brian Holden was standing right behind me and I almost had a panic attack. It was amazing, absolutely amazing.

Now, some of you many be wondering where the hell I ran into a group of such fine people, and I'm going to tell you. Tonight was the opening night of 1Night2Last3Ever, which is a sketch comedy show starring our lovely Starkids. It was honestly one of the funniest things I've ever seen in my life, and I'll probably be quoting it for the next year. It was amazing, and the music is stuck in my head and I loved it so much. After the show, I waited around (by myself because my friends bailed on me and wouldn't wait) and I got to meet the cast and talk to them, and ohmyrowling I took a photo with Joe and it's going to be my profile picture for the next three years or until I get one with all of the Starkid men.

Anyway, I just wanted to share that with some awesome Starkid people who would understand what I was talking about, and for those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, go to Youtube right now, don't even read this chapter, and look up Starkid. Watch all of their shows, laugh, cry, poop your pants, and fall in love with every single one of them. Do it. Now.

And, if you live in Chicago or anywhere near Chicago, go buy tickets for one of the shows! You won't regret it, I swear. It was spectacular. Pinky swear.

**Dedication:** To Joe Walker, and Lauren Lopez, and Jeff Blim for being so incredibly nice to an overexcited fangirl who was meeting you for the first time. Thank you so much, and while we're at it, thanks for being such incredible role models. You guys are totally awesome. Pure totes.

**Disclaimer: **J.K. Rowling owns the story (speaking of God Rowling, who else is beyond excited for _Fantastic Beasts?_ I AM.)

* * *

><p><strong>Wednesday, January 28<strong>**th****, 1998**

"Do you think you guys can finish the clean-up?" Amy asked, looking impatiently at the clock on the diner wall. It was already after noon in Chicago and she was supposed to be meeting with the Order at 1:30 Salem time. Since Salem was an hour ahead though, the witch really needed to get moving if she didn't want to be late.

The other workers in the diner looked up at Amy, and they quickly took note of her anxious shuffling and the way she kept looking at the clock. They looked between each other before around the small mess that remained in the diner before back at Amy.

"Yeah sure," Laila said with a shrug. "There's not much left to do anyway."

"Yeah, we've got this," Timothy agreed. "You should have been out of here like a half hour ago or something."

A faint smile broke out over Amy's face and she immediately began to take off the apron that was wrapped around her waist.

"Thank you _so_ much," she said with earnest as she dropped her apron onto the counter along with the collection of dirty plates and silverware she had gathered up. Timothy and Laila shrugged and muttered something about it being, 'no big deal,' but Amy was already out the door and bustling down the street.

Normally she would have gone out the backdoor of the diner and Apparated from there, but winter had hit Chicago in full force and the snow was accumulating quickly. The alleyway behind the diner in particular was laden with snow, and Amy didn't want to risk being crushed in a mountain of the white powder.

Instead, she trudged through the snowy pathways, battling against the fierce winter winds, in search of a dark and deserted alley where she wouldn't be seen.

She had to walk several blocks before she found one, and when she did, she quickly slipped into the alley, making sure to look over her shoulder to check for any Muggles who might have seen her. No one had, which wasn't very surprising as city-goers tended to be rather selfish and uninterested in the lives and habits of strange people in alleys.

Pulling her wand from the sleeve of her jacket, Amy quickly pulled an image of her destination in her mind before turning sharply on her heel and disappearing into the snowy darkness of the alley with a snap.

She held her breath tightly, forcing herself to remember her destination and focus on that and only that, when she felt ground beneath her. When she opened her eyes, she was staring at the front of a small store in the middle of a Wizarding village near Salem Academy. She took a deep breath before looking at the watch on her wrist. When she saw the time, her eyes went wide and she immediately walked towards the front of the building.

Amy pulled open the door to the store, letting the warmth of the business wash over her, and she waved briefly at the older witch behind the register as she made her way to the back of the store which was concealed by a row of gauzy curtains.

The Order had decided as a group rather quickly that they needed to establish a headquarters as soon as possible. While the pub had been an alright setting for their first meeting, they didn't exactly want to make a habit of it. Robyn had been quick to offer up her mother's shop for the job, insisting that it would be no trouble because at that was really in the back storeroom was empty boxes and cases. It was no Grimmauld Place, that was for sure, and Amy had yet to decide whether or not that was a good thing or not.

Everyone else was already there by the time Amy made her way through the curtains and they all looked up as she came bustling in with red cheeks.

"Sorry I'm late," Amy said in a breathy voice. She approached the group, still dripping in snow and sludge, as she removed her scarf and gloves. "Work ran later than I expected."

"Aren't you the one always saying that if we're late that you'll skin us alive?" Thomas the twin asked with a teasing look at Amy's mussed up apperance. The witch threw him a nasty look and rolled her eyes when he laughed in response.

"Hey, you can shut up," she said with a sneer. "That's enough out of you for the rest of the night."

Thomas mimed locking his lips up and the witch thought she was done with all of that when Sam, the other twin, raised his hand as though he were a student and Amy a teacher.

Well, she was a teacher but she wasn't his teacher and she also wasn't teaching at the moment, nor had she in the last few months and -

You get the point.

Amy raised her eyebrows as she took her seat.

"Yes Mr. Sheppard?"

"I thought you said you'd skin us alive if we came late to one of these meetings?"

Amy's eyes flashed as Thomas and Sam laughed and she shook her head and bit her tongue to stop from snapping at them. She was definitely not in the mood to put up with their shenanigans, but clearly she had forgotten that they too suffered from Teenage Boy Syndrome and that they had never grown out of it.

"I'm most definitely going to need a drink," Amy muttered to herself, "and a strong one at that."

When the laughter from around the room had finally died down, Amy say up in her seat and straightened her shoulders in – what she hoped to be – a commanding and authoritarian way. She didn't want to seem like a jerk but she did at least want some respect.

"Alright, alright," she said as the other turned their attention back to her. "Let's get on with this meeting then. Anyone have anything to report?"

It was common of Amy to start off a meeting with this question. Since she wasn't living in a magical community, she found herself to be cut off from the world. These meetings were some of the few times that she was actually able to find things out about what was happened back in Britain. This was also the part of the meeting she most looked forward to and the part of the meeting that she came to dread as well.

She loved these moments because she loved to hear just the simple fact that nothing major had happened since the last time she had asked and she was always able to take a breath to calm herself. She hated these moments because so many of them were filled with reports of death and torture. Amy was forced to sit there in quiet fear, gripping onto the arms of her chair, as the names of the dead and missing were read off to her. No one really know what it was that she went through every time that they started this part of the meeting; no one knew the fear that coursed through her, and the terrible wave of relief that washed over her when the list was concluded and there was no mention of anyone she knew. She hated herself for it, but she also knew that she couldn't help it in the slightest.

When the list was concluded and that terrible feeling of guilty relief had been wiped from her body, Amy turned the attention away from the blood and gore of England and back to the meeting.

"I know it seems like we really have nothing to do at these meetings," Amy began, drawing the attention of the others onto her, "and to be quite honest, there really is nothing we can do just yet. But that doesn't mean we can't be prepared."

"Prepared?" Mara repeated. "How are we supposed to train for a battle that we don't even know is coming?"

"We practice," Amy responded quickly and firmly. "We practice like it's the night before our O.W.L.s or our N.E.W.T.s and we study hard."

"What? So you want us to duel each other?" Mike asked. "Because I wouldn't mind hexing Eddie once or twice."

"You wanna fight me?" Eddie asked from across the table. He threw up his arms and gestured violently at Mike. "Bring it. I will crush you."

Mike began to rise out of his seat and his hand drifted towards his pocket but Amy threw her hands up and looked between the boys.

"Thank you for the enthusiasm," she said quickly, "but that's not exactly what I had in mind."

"Are you sure?" Mike asked, his hand resting just next to the opening of his pocket. "I swear I won't hurt him too much."

"I'm sure," Amy said immediately, cutting Eddie off from saying anything else. "I was thinking this could be a bit more organized, and perhaps a bit more civilized, than just a group of witches and wizards shooting spells at each other and laughing."

"How exactly do we organize that?" Tiffany asked. "I can barely get my students to not wreak havoc and you think you'll be able to manage this bunch?"

"Well, I was actually thinking we could have something along the lines of lessons," Amy said slowly and deliberately. "I mean, we wouldn't actually be teaching but just reviewing things. Brushing up here and there and building up our reflexes."

"Lessons?" Phillip asked. "I definitely did not sign up to go back to school." Amy and several of the other rolled her eyes.

"That's not exactly what I'm saying," she said. "About two years ago, one of my students started a secret group or organization, sort of like this one, where he helped train students and helped them learn how to defend themselves. From what I know, almost every single one of those students who was in that group and who went on to take their O.W.L.s or their N.E.W.T.s did exceptionally well in the Defense portion."

"So you want us to pretend to be measly little first years, is what you're saying."

"What I'm saying," Amy said with a sudden fierceness, "is that when we do go to battle and we're dueling against You-Know-Who's followers, we're not going to be dueling little kids who don't know how to use a wand. We're going to be fighting some of the fastest and cruelest wizards to ever walk the planet. We have to be ready for whatever it is that they throw at us, which also means that you have to be ready to go at a moment's notice. I don't care if it's your birthday or your anniversary or it you're at a club or a party or a wedding. You need to be ready to go when I say so."

This was met with an eerie silence that made Amy narrow her eyes and stare forcefully at those around her.

"You understand that you have to be ready at a moment's notice, right?" Amy asked, looking around the group. "If you're here and if you're here to help, you have to be ready to go when I say go."

"But how will we know when we're needed?" Robyn asked. "It's not like they'll send us an invitation to a war."

There were chuckles from those in the room, and Amy couldn't help the smile that broke out on her face as she let the image of a scented invite on deckled stationary float through her head.

_You are cordially invited to_

_The Battle of Good versus Evil_

_To take place on the following date._

_Please RSVP in advance_

_So a Death Eater can be provided for you._

_Hoping you are well,_

_Lord Voldemort_

"We'll know," Amy said, breaking through the titters and giggles, "because I'll know. Perhaps you've forgotten but I do have quite a few correspondents over there. They'll let me know, and when I know something, I promise you that you'll know something too."

"Well, what do we do in the meantime?" Aaron asked from behind his mop of dark brown hair. "Sit around and twiddle our thumbs? Gobstones?"

It was there that Amy looked hesitantly over at Serena. She made at face at the short haired witch before looking back at the others.

"To be honest," Amy said carefully, "I'm not really sure."

There was a moment of silence before those gathered went into a rage.

"What the hell?"

"What do you mean you're not sure?"

"Are you serious?"

"Why are we here then?"

"I need a drink."

"Shut it!" Amy cried after several moments of people crying out and yelling at each other. To her surprise, everyone fell silent at her order and they stared up at her expectantly.

"I told you earlier that we need to practice and we need to work on our spellwork," she repeated earnestly. "But I don't know what kind of help we can be to those over there when we're over here. We can help them when it comes time to fight, but I don't know what we can do in the meantime except prepare for the worst. That's really all we can do until we get word of what's really happening over there."

Most of those at the table nodded in understanding but a few of them looked rather put-out and they weren't afraid to voice these opinions.

"So when exactly do we get to the fighting bit?" Eddie's voice piped up from the back. There were mutters of agreement and curiosity from the other men gathered around the table, and even the witches seemed particularly interested in this answer as well. Amy cocked her head as she looked from face to face with a furrowed brow.

"The fighting bit?" she repeated slowly.

Eddie nodded and gave her a goofy smile.

"Yeah," he said perkily. "You know the part where we fight the bad guys and win and it's totally awesome?" He held up his wand and made little 'pew-pew' noises before high-fiving Aaron who was seated next to him.

Amy stared back at him, watching the others grow animated in their conversations, laughing and pushing each other around as they joked about fighting off bad guys like they were superheroes or something, and the witch honestly couldn't believe what she was hearing or seeing. They all seemed to love this idea of going off to fight; it was like they didn't even think it was real or something tangible.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Amy asked suddenly, her voice slicing through the peals of laughter coming from the others. Their smiles slipped from their cheery faces as they turned their attention back to the livid witch. Her eyes were blazing and her jaw was clenched together tightly.

"Do you think this is some sort of joke?" she demanded furiously. "Do you think this is something to laugh about and joke about? What is wrong with you? I mean what the actual hell?"

"Jeez Amy," Celeste said uneasily as she tucked back a strand of her blonde hair. "He was just kidding."

"I don't care if he was just kidding," Amy shot down viciously, not even caring that the blonde witch flinched at her cold inflection. "He should know better. You should all know better." Some of those at the table had the decency to look guilty while others just continued to look at the witch uneasily, keeping their eyes on the wand tucked away in her pocket.

"This isn't a joke for you all to laugh at," Amy went on. "This isn't a joke. This is reality. People are being kidnapped. Families are being tortured and beaten. People are dying over there. Literally dying, and not even for a legitimate reason. They're dying because some prejudiced ass doesn't like them. People are suffering and living in fear and in pain over those that they have lost, and you are sitting here laughing at them."

How many times was she going to have to say this before it sunk into their thick skulls? How long would it take before they realized that there was a real war going on and it wasn't time for them to make jokes?

"Families are being ripped apart, children are being made into orphans, and all you can do is laugh."

Amy was practically seething by now, and those at the table were careful to lean back in their seats, trying to get as far away from her as possible. "People are dying, and we have a responsibility to help them. If you don't want to help them or if you're going to laugh and make jokes, then you can get the hell out of here and don't let the door hit you on the way out. Otherwise, you can all grow up and learn a thing or two about responsibility and doing the right goddamn thing."

She looked from person to person, meeting their eyes with a fury to ensure that she got her point across nicely.

Amy bit her cheek and forced herself to turn away from the group with a composed face. Her arms were shaking against her side with the amount of force she was using not to strangle the others with her bare hands. This was not going at all the way she wanted, and she was beginning to think this may not have been the greatest idea. She was also giving many props to Dumbledore for being able to put up with so many different personalities and ideas as the leader of the Order.

She hadn't expected this to be so difficult. She expected that people would just accept what she had to say and agree that this was the plan of action. She was all for them giving ideas and helping to plan, but she had expected them all to be in agreement about the goal and what they were striving towards.

Instead, she was met with opposition at every corner, and no one seemed to agree with her with anything. Amy guess that she expected it to be more like teaching; she expected people to accept what she had to say and go with it. It wasn't supposed to be this difficult; _nothing _was supposed to be this difficult.

Then again, everything wasn't as it was supposed to be. She wasn't supposed to be in America and she wasn't supposed to be running the Order of the Phoenix – even if it was the American one – and she sure as hell wasn't supposed to be away from Charlie.

Amy eventually forced herself to turn back around, taking in a deep breath to try and calm herself down. She managed to restrain herself for the rest of the meeting, but she couldn't suppress the little voice in her head that was saying that this battle of good versus evil better come quickly, because she didn't know how much longer she would be able to put up with this lot.

…..

The lot had insisted on going out for drinks after the end of the meeting, and despite Amy's protests and complaints she was dragged along with them. They refused to accept any of her excuses - or perhaps they didn't care if she had other plans or obligations. All they could think of was drinking and drinking a lot.

So, Amy let herself be dragged along with the rest of them, hating herself the entire time and wishing that she was back in Chicago and fast asleep. She had said it once and she'd say it again, but this whole traveling between Chicago and Salem, the diner and the Order, was exhausting, and she was rather proud of herself for not falling asleep with her nose in her drink.

Of course, it was a bit difficult to even hear her own thoughts over the buzzing roar of those around her, let alone sleep, and she couldn't help but feel like she was back in that bar on New Year's Eve. The noise had been numbing then too. So completely numbing, that her thoughts broke down into bits and she couldn't think or breathe or do anything really, because she was so entirely numb.

That's all she had been for a while, in fact. Numb. Hollow. Empty. Maybe that was clichéd and maybe it was clichéd to say it was clichéd, but ever since she had left England, however many months ago it was – had it really only been six months? – she had felt numb and restless and hollow from the person she was – or was it used to be?

After a while, the noise of the bar and the hollow buzzing in her head became too much, and Amy found herself standing up in a staggering daze.

She mumbled something about needing fresh air and quickly made her way out of the bar, not noticing the pair of eyes that followed her motions.

As she stepped out into the frigid January air, she took in a sharp and sudden breath. The air moved down her throat cooling her from the inside out and turning the hollow numbness to a frozen one.

In her daze, she spied a small bench sitting just outside the door and she quickly collapsed onto it, slumping into the cold wall behind her, and not caring that there was snow slowly seeping through the seat of her jeans.

"So, who's the guy?"

Amy ripped her head from her hands and looked towards the door of the pub with wide eyes. Thomas was standing there with his arms crossed and a crooked smile across his face. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, not exactly sure what to say.

"I-I," she stuttered, confusion etched in her features. Thomas nodded and looked away from her.

"I'm guessing it's someone you met while you were in England," he said as though he was deducing an answer from the facts before him. "Although, I hadn't really expected there to be a lot of dating opportunities when you're teaching in the middle of nowhere."

Amy didn't say anything and Thomas continued on without waiting for her to say anything either.

"But you've never really been the one to follow expectations," he said with a slow smirk. "Ever since we met, you've been defying expectations. You weren't what I ever thought you'd be. You were so smart and so funny. You fit in perfectly with everyone and no one cared that you were a Muggleborn and had no idea what Quidditch was."

"I still barely know what Quidditch is," Amy muttered, only half-jokingly. The corner of Thomas' mouth quirked at this, and he eyed Amy warily.

"So you're not going to tell me who he is?" he asked. "You're not going to tell your best friend who this guy is that's captured your heart?"

He expected Amy to laugh at him and protest his accusation of having let someone take her heart, but she was silent and that was really all it took for him to know he was right. There _was_ a guy and he had stolen her heart.

"We met a few years ago," Amy said quietly, her voice just above the whistle of the winds. "Just a few weeks after I started at Hogwarts."

"And let me guess," Thomas said, not looking at Amy. "You met and fell in love with him instantaneously and he swept you off your feet into the sunset."

Amy eyed him from the corner of her eye.

"No," she said firmly. "That's not what happened at all. In fact, we didn't get together until more than a year after we met."

"What? Were you stringing the guy along?"

"When I started at Hogwarts, I had four of his siblings in my classes," Amy explained. "I was afraid I would lose my job or get in trouble. Potential favoritism or nepotism or something like that."

"What changed?" Thomas asked. "What made you change your mind and take that chance?"

There was a pause before Amy responded.

"I almost died," she said softly. "I was on a mission for Professor Dumbledore, and we were ambushed by Death Eaters. I tried to lead them away from the others, and they caught up to me. They tortured me and I have no doubt that they would try to kill me. It's a little fuzzy about how I got away, but I remember thinking, quite clearly, while lying on that forest floor that I needed to get away and I needed to find Charlie and tell him how much he meant to me.

"Things just sort of fell into place after that, and we fell into place together."

"Woah," Thomas said with a small laugh. "Don't get sappy on me."

Amy rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help the words that spilled out next.

"He almost proposed to me," she said. She saw Thomas look at her sharply before glancing quickly at her left hand. "He made dinner and he dressed up and he told me all these beautiful, wonderful things, and I swear the words were almost out of his mouth when there was a crack in the other room and my friend Tonks came bounding in."

"So, he never actually asked?"

"He never got it out, no," Amy said. "But I saw the look in his eyes, and I heard his words and I could feel it and I'm sure of it. I've never been more sure about anything in my entire life."

"And what would you have said?"

"Yes," Amy said instantly, and the second the words tumbled from her mouth, she took in a sharp breath. This was the first time she had told anyone this, about the proposal, about what had happened, about all the thoughts that had run through her head and how desperately she wished that Tonks had shown up only a few minutes later. And now that she had said the words out loud, she found herself out of breath.

"So," Thomas said after a moment. "Our Amy has found the love of her life and yet she's over here, preparing to fight a war that isn't hers."

Amy blinked and looked up at Thomas with a furrowed brow.

"Isn't mine?" she asked. "How is this not my fight? This is all of our fight. I thought you got that."

"I thought I did too," Thomas said, "but I thought you wanted to do this because you thought it was the right thing to do and not because you wanted to save your boyfriend and his four siblings."

"Excuse me?" Amy demanded, turning to look at him furiously. "How dare you! You have no right – "

"And what right do you have to demand this of us to save your poor fiancé?"

"I'm not doing this for him!" Amy snarled. "I'm doing it because it _is_ the right thing to do. It's the right thing to fight for everyone that's over there. My colleagues, my students, my friends and family, and for him too! It's the right goddamn thing to do, and I can't believe you would accuse me of being selfish in a time like this. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I was in love with you," he said suddenly and forcefully.

Amy's breath caught in her throat and her eyes grew wide. She leaned away from him and stared up at his blazing eyes. She couldn't bring herself to look at him though, and she listened, unsure of what to say. "Probably from the first day we met. You were so completely unexpected, so entirely extraordinary that you took my breath away, even when I was eleven years old. You were what I had always wanted, even if I didn't know it, and in that moment where you crashed headfirst into me, I knew that I was in love with you."

He laughed, almost bitterly, and Amy looked away, not able to look him in the eye as he said this. Thomas was her first friend here in the Wizarding World, and that's all he had ever been to her, and all he would ever be to her. But to hear this, to see the look in his eyes as he told her that he had loved her for more than half her life, well, it made Amy sick to her stomach, because she did love Thomas, but it was the same way that she loved Sam and Phillip and Aaron and all the other wizards she had grown close with over the years.

She loved them, but she wasn't in love with them.

And to think that Thomas had been harboring these feelings for Merlin knows how long made Amy's eyes well up, because she hated to think that she had caused him any pain and that there was nothing she could do to help him feel better.

Thomas didn't seem to notice the pain in Amy's eyes because he continued on.

"Heck, I think Sam was in love with you too," he said. "Every wizard our age who met you had to have loved at one point. I think it would have been impossible not to. You charmed your way into all of our hearts and you didn't look back for a second."

"Thomas," Amy said quietly. "I can't…"

"I know you can't," he interrupted. "I know you never felt that way, and now that you have someone else, I know you never will."

"Thomas," she said in an almost pleading and broken voice, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorr-"

"Don't," he cut in with a thick voice. Amy bit the inside of her cheek as he gave her a weak and watery smile. "Don't apologize. You don't need to apologize for this."

Amy didn't know what to say. She couldn't think of anything to say, and she knew Thomas would never forgive her if she tried to say anything else. So instead she sat there and she didn't say a word, and nor did Thomas. And eventually, Amy found herself sitting on that bench alone, wondering exactly when everything had gone to hell.

…..

Several hours later, Amy staggered through the doorway of her parents' home. She was exhausted, physically, mentally, and emotionally, not to mention slightly buzzed, and the only thing on her mind at that exact moment was that she really wanted to go to sleep and not wake up or have to speak to someone for several days.

Of course, because this is the illustrious life of Amy Elizabeth Wyman, the witch found herself being ambushed in a flurry of hugs and cheers the second she crossed the threshold. There was a split second where she thought she was being attacked by Death Eaters and there was a faint echo in her mind of her voice telling everyone to be ready to go at any moment and she as thinking how incredibly ironic this all was, when she realized that the screams were coming from Michelle and her mother and sister.

They were babbling all at once, and in the fuzzy region of Amy's drunken brain, it was impossible to distinguish who was saying what and who was saying what when.

"Okay, okay!" Amy finally choked out in a hoarse voice that was also slightly slurred. "Could we all calm down and could someone tell me, slowly and quietly, what the fuss is all about?"

She looked blearily from person to person, slightly put-off by the fact that everyone in her family had wide grins spread across their faces, when Rich stepped forward and slipped an arm around Michelle's waist.

"I proposed," he said simply with a cheeky little grin.

It took a moment for the words to register but once they had, Amy felt the fogginess drain from her mind and her eyes went wide as she looked from her brother to her best friend.

"What?" she said eventually, still not understanding entirely what had just happened.

Michelle, thankfully, was more than happy to explain and in a rather loud and exuberant voice as well.

"I'm getting married!" she squealed and she held up her left hand to show off a rather gaudy engagement ring of diamonds that had Amy's jaw dropping. "Rich proposed!" She looked from the ring to her friend before over at her brother.

"I – I – " Amy stuttered and stammered for several moments, not sure what the hell she was supposed to say, but Michelle didn't seem to notice because she pulled Amy in for another hug.

"We're going to be sisters!" she cried, all the while rocking back and forth and side-to-side. Amy smiled faintly and patted Michelle on the back.

"So it seems," she said quietly. "One big happy family."

She loved Michelle, of course she did, but she didn't think that very second was the best time for her to find out her brother was marrying her best friend. Something just seemed weird about it all, something seemed off, but for the life of her, Amy couldn't figure out what it was.

So she smiled instead, and welcomed Michelle into the family with a hug and a beam, but she couldn't help but ask herself once more when her life had gone to complete and utter hell.

…..

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>Not my best, I'll admit, but it's something, and like I said, the sooner I get it out, the sooner I can get to the fun stuff.

Plus I also wanted to immortalize my meeting three Starkids. The internet is forever after all.

Pure totes,

WiseGirl


	74. Chapter 73

**AN: **I should be asleep. And I really mean I should be asleep, but I felt bad so here is this.

**Dedication**: To my favorite homecoming warrior! You're the best boo out there!

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing you recognize (which is quite a bit this time).

* * *

><p><strong>Tuesday, March 3rd, 1998<strong>

In between working at the diner and running the Order in Massachusetts, not to mention now having to help Michelle with her wedding plans and dealing with her enthusiastic family and all of their nonsense, Amy was exhausted beyond belief. She had complained about being tired before but this was an entirely different realm of exhaustion. Quite frankly, it was a miracle that she was able to form complete sentences or even remember her own name.

The past two months had been filled with setting a date for the wedding and picking out bridesmaid's colors and finding a venue and a million other things that Amy couldn't bear to think about. And yet, the witch was forced to think about it all because she had been given the honor of being Michelle's Maid of Honor. Amy was, of course, thrilled to have been chosen by her dear friend, but at the same time, she didn't think she would be the best person for the job. She had explained to Michelle, more than once, that while she was happy for her and Rich, she wasn't in the wedding planning mood, or any mood to be quite honest. She told her that it didn't seem right for her to be celebrating with everything that was going on, and she would hate to do something that may ruin the wedding.

Michelle, however, was having none of this, and she quickly shot down Amy's pleas to have the bride pick another girl.

"If it weren't for you," Michelle said after one long wedding-planning session which had ended with the bride-to-be slamming a magazine shut and tossing it aside, "I wouldn't be here. You saved my life and now you have to deal with the repercussions of that, which means you get to be my Maid of Honor and you're going to like it. Got it?"

Amy pouted a bit but nodded.

"Fine," she said, drawing the word out, "but on one condition."

Michelle raised an eyebrow in warning but Amy ignored her and continued on.

"I'm not wearing a dress with a bow on my butt," she said. The witch pointed a threatening finger at the bride, who rolled her eyes and let out a huff.

"Whatever," she said, but Amy could see the smile pulling at the edge of her lips.

After that, everything seemed to run a bit more smoothly. Michelle noticed the stress Amy was under and she began to lighten up on the task force. It was by no means ideal and the witch still came home every evening with weary bones and a weary mind. She made the obligatory small talk with her parents and scratched Oliver's chin before collapsing onto her bed in exhaustion.

It went on this way for several weeks and Amy did her best to take it all in stride and with a smile as well, and for a while, she managed to keep that smile on, but as the weather began to warm up – even if it was just a tad – and the days grew a bit longer than before, Amy began to dread the daily wedding meetings and the cheeriness that accompanied them. She hated talking about ribbons and lace and whether they should have chicken or fish at the reception, because she hated knowing that while she was sitting there, planning a wedding that wasn't even hers, her friends and her family that weren't there with her were suffering beyond her imagination.

And so she hated herself for feeling even the smallest smidge of happiness and she hated her family for forcing her to feel this way, and then of course, she hated herself even more for hating her family, and it was just a vicious circle of frustration and self-loathing and Amy was beginning to get sick and tired of it all.

So she sucked it up and helped Michelle plan her wedding. She talked about lace and ribbons – although she outright refused to go with her to pick out what would wear for her wedding night – and she tasted all the hors d'oeuvres, nasty and tasty, and she smiled, and she did all she could not to think of Charlie and the thought that this could have been – should have been – her wedding that she was planning rather than her brother's and best friend's.

**Friday, March 20th, 1998**

It was a Friday afternoon that Amy got the news. It was one of those days that Mother Nature likes to throw out every once in a while; the kind where the sun beams a bit too brightly and the wind is a bit too kind. It spoke of an approaching spring of blossoms and life, but on that particular day, the only thing is brought to Amy was news of death and terrible guilt.

Since the Order meeting that had taken place several weeks earlier, in which Amy had snapped at her friends, snarling like a rabid dog, the others had begun to take the meetings a tad more seriously. They were finally beginning to understand that this wasn't all a joke and that even though it was happening on the other side of the world, it still had an amazingly profound impact on those in America and, well, around the world. They began to practice dueling and they honed in on their skills that needed work. Amy worked with them relentlessly, easily falling back into that teacher role. It didn't take long for the witch to grow nostalgic, but she was quick to push those feelings away on focus on what was right in front of her. She couldn't allow herself to get distracted, because if she did, she could slip up and that could prove detrimental to every single witch and wizard that she was working with.

The meeting had started off as it usually did. They all crowded into the back of Robyn's mother's store and they took their seats. Someone would usually crack a lame joke and every one would laugh and allow themselves a moment of lightheartedness. After a while, they would start working on whatever was planned for that day, and the next few hours would pass in a flurry of spells, laughter, and, a lot of the time, drinks.

So on that particular Friday afternoon, the meeting had started off just as it should. Once Amy was seated, Sam Sheppard made some comment about how nice it was that she had shown up on time. Amy said something snarky back to him and the group laughed as a whole. There were several minutes of taunts and teases before the all took a breath and began to get to work.

They were working on nonverbal spells that day, perfecting their concentration and really focusing on spells that would be helpful in the upcoming weeks. Amy was helping Blondie through one of the more difficult spells when there was a cry and a whoop from the back of the room.

All attention in the room immediately shot towards the noise, and all eyes fell on Aaron and Shawn, who were dancing some sort of ridiculous jig and high-fiving each other. It took them a moment to notice the group's attention on them, and they came to an immediate halt, mid-jig. They looked slightly embarrassed but they couldn't fight the grins that spread evenly across their faces.

"We cracked it!" Shawn said with a toothy grin. "We finally cracked it!"

"Cracked what?" Jane asked in her quiet voice.

"The code!" Aaron cried. "Look!"

He turned away from the group for a moment before turning back. In his hands was an old Muggle radio. The antenna was slightly bent and the framework was scuffed and dirty, but every single person in that room could hear the crinkle and crackle of the voices through the speakers.

"…apologize for our temporary absence from the airwaves, which was due to a number of house calls in our area by those charming Death Eaters."

"It's a broadcast!" Shawn said eagerly. "From a group of supporters somewhere in England."

Amy's ears perked up at this and all those in the room gathered around quickly to listen to the voices that spilled from the Muggle device. Amy managed to push her way to the front of the group and she kneeled down close to the radio, anxious to hear more from the other side.

"…now found ourselves another secure location and I'm pleased to tell you that two of our regular contributors have joined me here this evening. Evening, boys!"

There was a chorus of, "Hi," and "Evening, River," from the other side.

"Wait a minute," Amy muttered. "I know that voice."

Those in the group turned to look at Amy with wide eyes.

"You do?" Serena asked from the other side of the radio. Amy nodded numbly and glanced at the radio again.

"Yeah," she said softly. "It's one of my students, one of my old stud – "

"Shh!" someone whispered from the middle of the group. Amy looked over at the others who were staring at the box in utter concentration and she too turned her attention back to the voices which had begun to speak again.

"But before we hear from Royal and Romulus," the voice – which Amy now recognized to be Lee Jordan's – went on, "let's take a moment to report those deaths that the Wizarding Wireless Network News and Daily Prophet don't think important enough to mention. It is with great regret that we inform our listeners of the murders of Ted Tonks and Dirk Cresswell."

There was a sharp gasp of air, and the group turned to look at Amy, who was staring at the radio with wide, watery eyes. Her hand was over her mouth as she stared in horror at the radio. Her shoulders shook as the words quickly sunk in, and she could feel her tears welling up in her eyes. Someone placed a hesitant arm around her shoulders, not sure what they should be doing.

"A goblin by the name of Gornuk was also killed. It is believed that Muggleborn Dean Thomas and a second goblin, both believed to be traveling with Tonks, Cresswell, and Gornuk, may have escaped. If Dean is listening, or if anyone has any knowledge of his whereabouts, his parents and sisters are desperate for news.

"Meanwhile, in Gaddley…"

Lee went on to describe the horrors which had befallen an unsuspecting Muggle family, but Amy couldn't find it within herself to hear any more. She had heard it all before, and she didn't know if she had the strength to hear it again.

Amy felt someone squeeze her shoulder in comfort, and she turned to look briefly at Bridgette who had tears of her own in her eyes. Amy provided the redheaded witch with a forlorn smile before forcing herself to listen to Lee's voice as he went on to explain the horrors of his home.

"Finally, we regret to inform our listeners that the remains of Bathilda Bagshot have been discovered in Godric's Hollow. The evidence is that she died several months ago. The Order of the Phoenix informs us that her body showed unmistakable signs of injuries inflicted by Dark Magic.

"Listeners, I'd like to invite you now to join us in a minute's silence in memory of Ted Tonks, Dirk Cresswell, Bathilda Bagshot, Gornuk, and the unnamed, but no less regretted, Muggles murdered by the Death Eaters."

Silence fell over the group, broken only by the sounds of the front of the shop and the crackle of the radio. Yet the only thing that Amy could hear was the echo of names throughout her head.

Ted Tonks. Dirk Cresswell. Dean Thomas. Ted Tonks. Dirk Cresswell. Dean Thomas.

Dean was one of her students, and quite an exceptional one at that. She may have been partial to Gryffindors, but she really did mean it when she said that he had a knack for Charms. She knew the Weasleys weren't too fond of him, but she also knew that was because of his relationship with Ginny and the fact that they all would rather the Weasley daughter be with Harry Potter than anyone else. She could only hope and pray that no harm had come to him and that no harm would. Amy didn't know if she could handle knowing that another innocent child – because that's really what all of them were – had been harmed.

Dirk Cresswell was a familiar name to her as well, but she had never met him. The only real connection she had with him, in fact, was Charlie. Dirk had been the head of Charlie's department at the Ministry, and from what Amy understood, he was a nice man. He told jokes and he groaned about the losses of his favorite Quidditch team and he loved his wife, and now he was dead.

And while this was heart wrenching for the witch, hearing Ted Tonks' name come out of the speakers of the radio had felt like a sucker punch. Amy knew Ted Tonks, she really did. She and Tonks had been friends for too long for her to not know her friend's father. He was an incredibly sweet man, who loved his daughter and his wife with every fiber of his being. He was pleasant and friendly and he had looked after Amy and she had danced with him at his daughter's wedding and he made her laugh for the first time in weeks, and he too was dead, and that broke Amy's heart like nothing else. And to add to the fire that was coursing through her veins, Amy also realized that he would never have the chance to meet his grandchild, and he would never get the chance to see the dawn of the good days to come.

Amy was pulled from her thoughts as the voice from the radio broke through her grief and the silence of those around her.

"Thank you," Lee said, and Amy could almost imagine his cheerful face and dark, curly hair bouncing as he said the words. She smiled faintly as she remembered walking into her first class of her Hogwarts career, and almost running head-on into Lee and the Twins, who had been trying to escape before she got there. "And now we turn to regular contributor Royal, for an update on how the new Wizarding order is affecting the Muggle world."

"Thanks, River," said a deep voice that boomed through the speakers, taking the others by surprise. Amy let out an involuntary laugh and her eyes lit up as she stared at the radio.

"Oh Merlin," she muttered with a faint smile. "Kingsley."

"You know him too?" Sam asked. Amy flashed him a small grin but didn't say anything as Kingsley began to speak in his soothing voice.

"Muggles remain ignorant of the source of their suffering as they continue to sustain heavy casualties," said Kingsley. "However, we continue to hear truly inspirational stories of wizards and witches risking their own safety to protect Muggle friends and neighbors, often without the Muggles' knowledge. I'd like to appeal to all our listeners to emulate their example, perhaps by casting a protective charm over any Muggle dwellings in your street. Many lives could be saved if such simple measures are taken."

"And what would you say, Royal, to those listeners who reply that in these dangerous times, it should be 'Wizards first'?" Lee asked, and Amy could almost see the smirk on the young wizard's face.

"I'd say that it's one short step from 'Wizards first' to 'Purebloods first,' and then to 'Death Eaters.' We're all human, aren't we? Every human life is worth the same, and worth saving."

Kingsley replied immediately and without hesitation, and Amy wondered briefly if they had rehearsed all of this before or if the Auror was just this quick all of the time. And she couldn't help but agree with Lee's response that Kingsley certainly had her vote once they had gotten out of this mess.

"And now, over to Romulus for our popular feature 'Pals of Potter.'"

"Thanks, River."

Amy swore loudly the second the words had come over the waves of the radio and her eyes flashed dangerously. She knew that voice, and she knew it all too well. And she hoped for Remus' sake that he was giving this broadcast from besides his, now very pregnant, wife. She hadn't heard any news from Tonks since her visit to the diner some months ago. She had had no idea that Remus was alive or if he had gone back to Tonks, but hearing his voice over the radio was not what she had expected to hear that day, and the witch wasn't sure if she should be happy to hear his voice or pissed because she knew that he had abandoned his wife, even if it was for only a short time, or at least, she assumed it was a short period of time.

She leaned forward intently, listening closely to Remus' words while the others eyed her hesitantly. This was the most alert and alive they had seen her in some time. Sure, she came to the meetings with a smile on her face and a joke to tell, but more often than not, she was quick to slip into a quiet shell of herself. So to actually hear her swear and look so incredibly animated was slightly disconcerted and the others couldn't help but lean closer to the radio as well, determined to figure out what it was that had gotten the witch so riled up.

"Romulus," Lee began, "do you maintain, as you have every time you've appeared on our program, that Harry Potter is still alive?"

There were murmurs of excitement from within the group; after hearing Amy talk about Harry and the rest of her students for some time, they too were eager to hear any mention of the boy hero.

There was a pause, as though Remus was thinking over his answer, before he answered in his low, gravelly voice.

"I do," he said with an odd tone of finality. "There is no doubt at all in my mind that his death would be proclaimed as widely as possible by the Death Eaters if it had happened – "

"Isn't he a bundle of joy?" Eddie muttered.

" – because it would strike a deadly blow at the morale of those resisting the new regime. 'The Boy Who Lived' remains a symbol of everything for which we are fighting: the triumph of good, the power of innocence, the need to keep resisting."

Amy couldn't help the boost of energy she felt bubble up inside of her, and she begrudgingly allowed herself to be filled with inspiration and hope for the first time in weeks. She hadn't realized that the werewolf had such a way with words.

"And what would you say to Harry if you knew he was listening, Romulus?"

"I'd tell him we're all with him in spirit," Remus said without hesitation, although his next words sounded strained and hoarse, as though he was trying to control his emotions. "And I'd tell him to follow his instincts, which are good and nearly always right."

He cleared his throat a bit, and Amy couldn't help but think that there was more to that message than just inspiration or friendly advice. There was something more there, and Amy couldn't help but smile and think that he was going to be a wonderful father – if only she knew whether he had returned to Tonks…

"…and our usual update on those friends of Harry Potter's who are suffering for their allegiance?" Lee asked.

"Well, as regular listeners will know, several of the more outspoken supporters of Harry Potter have now been imprisoned, including Xenophilius Lovegood, erstwhile editor of _The Quibbler_."

"_The Quibbler_?" Celeste repeated with a laugh. "That thing is complete and utter trash. Have you ever read that thing? He probably should be locked up."

Amy turned and glared violently at the witch, who immediately sobered up and looked down guiltily.

"I would shut up," Amy said in a low voice, "before you say anything else." Her eyes flashed in warning and the entire group shifted in their spots, thrown off by the fury that was rolling off the witch in waves. With another glare at Celeste, Amy turned her attention back to the radio, although there was still ringing in her ears.

Sure, she may not have known the wizard personally, and he may have been a bit more eccentric than most, but that did not give anyone the right to criticize him for standing up against the Darkest Wizard of all time, and Amy certainly wasn't going to let anyone say anything against him either.

"We have also heard," Remus continued, uninterrupted and unknowing of the anger Amy was feeling on the other side of the world, "within the last few hours that Rubeus Hagrid, well-known gamekeeper at Hogwarts School, has narrowly escaped arrest within the grounds of Hogwarts, where he is rumored to have hosted a 'Support Harry Potter' party in his house. However, Hagrid was not taken into custody, and is, we believe on the run."

"I suppose it helps, when escaping from Death Eaters, if you've got a sixteen-foot-high half-brother?" Lee asked.

"I would tend to give you an edge," Remus said in a tight voice, and Amy couldn't help but smile a little. "May I just add that while we here at _Potterwatch_ applaud Hagrid's spirit, we would urge even the most devoted of Harry's supporters against following Hagrid's lead. 'Support Harry Potter' parties are unwise in the present climate."

"Damn," someone muttered from the midst of the group. "There goes that idea for next week's meeting."

"Indeed they are, Romulus," Lee agreed, although his tone was nowhere near as severe as Remus'. "So we suggest that you continue to show your devotion to the man with the lightning scar by listening to _Potterwatch_! And now let's move to news concerning the wizard who is proving just as elusive as Harry Potter. We like to refer to him as the Chief Death Eater, and here to give his views on some of the more insane rumors circulating about him, I'd like to introduce a new correspondent: Rodent."

"'_Rodent_?'" repeated a voice in furious bewilderment. "I'm not being 'Rodent,' no way, I told you I wanted to be 'Rapier'!"

A small laugh bubbled its way out of Amy's throat and the witch clapped a hand over her mouth to contain the rest as the others looked at her. Her eyes were shining brightly and she was shaking her head as she looked at the radio. Her shoulders heaved a little with another laugh, and her hand fell away to reveal a dazzling smile.

"Let me guess," Thomas said in a low, dull voice, as he stared at the radio with a set jaw. "Your wizard from across the pond?"

There was a bitterness to his words, but Amy ignored them as she shook her head.

"No," she said with a smile. "One of his brothers." Thomas eyed her but said nothing more as the broadcasters continued on.

"Oh, all right then," Lee said with a huff, although Amy was sure he was smiling, 'Rapier,' could you please give us your take on the various stories we've been hearing about the Chief Death Eater?"

"Yes, River, I can," 'Rapier' said, and Amy could almost see the mischievous grin blooming across Fred's face, and she wondered if his Twin was there, urging him on or trying to distract him to the best of his abilities. "As our listeners will know, unless they've been taken refuge at the bottom of a garden pond or somewhere similar, You-Know-Who's strategy of remaining in the shadows is creating a nice little climate of panic. Mind you, if all the alleged sightings of him are genuine, we must have a good nineteen You-Know-Whos running around the place."

"Which suits him, of course," Kingsley broke in. "The air of mystery is creating more terror than actually showing himself."

"Agreed," Fred said in an uncharacteristically serious voice. There was a second of silence before he began to speak again, this time, however, in his normal, uplifting, carefree voice. "So, people, let's try and calm down a bit. Things are bad enough without inventing stuff as well."

Amy laughed again and shook her head; here was the Fred she had come to know and (at times begrudgingly) love.

"For instance," Fred went on in an incredibly sarcastic voice, "this new idea that You-Know-Who can kill with a single glance from his eyes. That's a _basilisk_, listeners. One simple test: Check whether the thing that's glaring at you has got legs. If it has, it's safe to look into its eyes, although if it really is You-Know-Who, that's still likely to be the last thing you ever do."

The entire group was laughing by now, surprised by the humor that was coming from this young boy who was living in the middle of a war. Amy, who was used to these antics from the redheaded twin, laughed simply because it was a relief to think that nothing had really changed while she was gone.

"And the rumors that he keeps being sighted abroad?" Lee asked.

"Well, who wouldn't want a nice little holiday after all the hard work he's been putting in?" Fred asked. "Point is, people, don't get lulled into a false sense of security, thinking he's out of the country. Maybe he is, maybe he isn't, but the fact remains he can move faster than Severus Snape confronted with shampoo when he wants to – "

None of the group understood why Amy hunched over, gripping her stomach and laughing uproariously at this, and the leaned forward to catch the end of the broadcast.

" – so don't count on him being a long way away if you're planning on taking any risks. I never thought I'd hear myself say it, but safety first!"

"Thank you very much for those wise words, Rapier," Lee said. "Listeners, that brings us to the end of another _Potterwatch_. We don't know when it will be possible to broadcast again, but you can be sure we shall be back. Keep twiddling those dials: The next password will be 'Mad-Eye.' Keep each other safe: Keep faith. Good night."

The knobs on the front of the radio twisted suddenly and static poured out of the speakers. The group sat there for several seconds, listening to the crunching, white noise, before Amy reached out and turned another dial, effectively sending the backroom into silence.

"There you have it," Amy said after a few moments. "That's who we're fighting with, that's who's on our side. That's who we're fighting for."

"Do you really know all those people?" Jane asked quietly. "All of those people who were talking on the air?"

Amy nodded.

"They're my co-workers, and my fellow Order members, and they're my friends," she said quietly. "They're my family."

"And the ones they were talking about?" Mara asked carefully. "That Dirk Cresswell and Hagrid and those others?"

Amy nodded with a clenched jaw.

"I worked with Hagrid at Hogwarts," she said. "Dean was one of my students, in the same year as Harry Potter in fact, and Dirk worked for the Ministry. He w-was my boyfriend's boss, and Ted Tonks is the father of one of my best friends. He's also the father-in-law to one of the broadcasters, Romulus."

Amy paused.

"Or at least he was."

The witch picked up the radio again, fiddling with the dials and listening to the soft strains of music that creaked and groaned from the aged speakers. She couldn't bear to look up at the others, afraid to see the expressions that would be drawn across their faces.

After a while, though, she couldn't handle to silence and she looked up with a small smile plastered to her face.

"C'mon," she said in her commanding teacher voice, "break's over. Back to work."

She pushed herself off the ground and set the radio on the rickety table, soft music still slipping through the cracks.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Hey, maybe I'm actually learning something from this creative writing class? Maybe? Maybe? Yes? No.

Thank you all for the wonderful reviews! I love them all so much (and I love you all so much)!

Pure totes,

WiseGirl


	75. Chapter 74

**AN:** Hello lovely readers! I'm so incredibly sorry for not updating sooner but the past few months have been pretty hard on me. School is exhausting, and people are ridiculous, and my family had to put my cat, Percy, to sleep on Oct. 15th. We noticed he had been breathing kinda funny so we took him to the vet and they told us he had lymphoma. Rather than put him through chemo or make him suffer any more than he already had, we decided to put him down. It was really hard on me because I had begged for a cat for years and Percy was a Christmas-Family surprise back in 2009. My mom had to keep me home for school for a few days because I couldn't stop sobbing. I suppose it would have been easier if we had him for longer than that or even if he wasn't so young (he would have turned five last week), but I'm grateful for the time we had with him and I'm glad we were able to give him a home and a family when he needed it most.

On a lighter note, I'M GOING TO THE U.K THIS APRIL! GAH! SO EXCITED. My school is doing a trip to London and Scotland and it's a literature and drama-based trip, and they needed three additional students, and I applied and out of a group of like ten seniors and fifteen juniors, I was one of the three and I'm so excited! I've never left the states before and by now you should all know what a huge fan of English literature I am, so I can't wait until April!

Finally (and I swear this is the last thing and then you can all get onto this crappy chapter), in honor of my dear creative writing teacher, B-Newt, I'm going to start each chapter off with a poem. Newt is so determined to change our minds to the way we look at poetry and to show us that it's not all pretentious bull-shit, and I've found some really beautiful poetry because of him. He's also helped me to be a better writer and a more creative thinker and he's just pretty damn awesome.

**Dedication**: To Percy. You were the answer to a girl's wish, and I couldn't think of a better pet, friend, and family member to get me through the strife of adolescent angst and drama. I promised you that if (and when) I become an author that you would be the most well-loved character of all. I love you Percy, and we all miss you so much.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

* * *

><p><em>I listened closely<br>__today  
><em>_and I swear  
><em>_to you  
>that my heartbeat,<br>in perfect  
>Morse Code,<br>was slowly  
>and efficiently<br>typing out  
>your name<em>.

-Tyler Knott Gregson

* * *

><p><strong>Tuesday, March 25<strong>**th****, 1998**

"_Reducto_!"

With a loud bang, the mannequin exploded into a cloud of dust and gravel that washed over the others, coating them in grime and ashes. Several of them coughed and they desperately rubbed their burning eyes, blinking to try and get the dust out. The majority of the group turned their attention to Bridgette, who was coated from head to toe in the dust and was looking sheepishly at the others.

"Oops," she said softly, carefully lowering her still raised wand. She eyed Amy abashedly, as though expecting the witch to scold her or criticize her but Amy only laughed and rolled her eyes.

"Well then," Amy said with a cheery smile, "now that Bridgette has destroyed our practice dummy, let's move on."

The rest of the Order complied with the witch, following after her as she led them away from the pile of still steaming ashes and towards an open space where they could better practice. As they passed by Bridgette, though, they couldn't help but glare at her – half-mocking and half-serious – as they kicked a small pile of dust at her.

"I want you all to break up into pairs," Amy began as she centered herself in the middle of the open space. "With someone who you haven't worked with before. You can't become too used to who you're dueling because you'll become too relaxed and you won't be ready for what may come."

She waited for the group to break up into their pairs, trusting that they'd be able to do so without her intervention. Once they had broken up and had spread themselves out across the room, Amy gestured vaguely at them and smiled.

"Well," she said, "you know what to do, so get to it!"

She turned on her heel and began to make her way through the pairs, who, on her word, had begun to duel each other. Their gazes were fierce and their curses tumbled from their lips smoothly and with an intensity which they were beginning to become incredibly familiar with.

They were used to this routine by now. For the past few weeks, the group had been working diligently on their spells and charms. They had gone through practice dummy after practice dummy, working up a sweat and shaking out their muscles, before Amy turned them on each other. She urged them to use whatever spells they could and to not be afraid to rough the others' up.

"The Death Eaters aren't going to be afraid to hurt you," she would remind them as she made her way through the dueling pairs. "So you can't be afraid to hurt them back. It could be a matter of life or death."

The witch's only rule was that they do no real damage to each other. She warned them that if anyone was maimed or seriously hurt in anyway, the person behind the wand would lose their drinking privileges until the war was over. She had said it with a soft, mischievous smile, but they had seen the sincerity in her words and in her eyes, and no one dared cross the witch on this.

Admittedly, the group had begun to notice a change in Amy. For the past few weeks, ever since they had started listening to _Potterwatch_, they had noticed that she was beginning to act differently than normal, or at least, differently than the way she had been acting since she had returned to the states. She smiled more and was more willing to be the first to laugh or the first to tell a joke. She no longer berated them for their comments on the war and she didn't lecture them on the horrors of battle and the pain of her friends and coworkers across the sea. She was starting to act like the girl they had all known before this whole thing had started.

Every day, her smile grew a bit brighter, and her laugh became a bit more sincere, and they had begun to see the darkness in her hazel-green eyes fade away, revealing the kind and passionate soul that had been bottled up and burdened within her body. Day by day, she was beginning to push her anger and the pain she felt behind her. She didn't spend every day cursing Charlie's name and wishing she was back in his arms and that the war was over. She didn't bemoan the fact that she wasn't at Hogwarts and that she was away from her friends and what she loved, because she wasn't away from her friends and she was still doing what she loved.

This group of witches and wizards had been her friends through all of her school days for the most part. They had stood by her and they had gone through the same rough and challenging experiences that often accompany the teen years. They were some of her closest friends and they knew her best, and she did love them, and she still got to do what she loved which was teaching and helping. With every meeting of the Order, she was helping the others learn something new or she was helping them become better at something that they had already known. Amy was still in that role of a teacher and it filled her with happiness and an odd contentedness to know that.

Of course, it still hurt to know that the love of her life was stuck living through hell on earth, but she had stopped blaming him and she had stopped blaming herself. She had come to accept that this is what she had chosen to do; this was the choice she had made. It may not have been the completely right choice and maybe she had hurried into it and maybe she should have fought back harder and refused to leave, but she had made that choice some months ago. It was now up to her to live with her choices and make the most of them.

And that meant, of course, that she had to stop thinking about Charlie and where he was and how they really shouldn't be separated, and start thinking about what she was going to do to ensure that she would be able to get back to him in the end as the same person that she was when she left. That meant that she could no longer be cynical and cruel and disinterested in the lives of her friends and family. She couldn't be jealous and passive aggressive and she could no longer jump down everyone's throat and talk to them as though they were stupid or inferior for not understanding the problems of the world. She would need to wise up and own up, and she would need to do everything in her power to ensure that when she did return to England and when she did see Charlie again (which she swore with all of her might that she would), she would be seeing him again as the same person she had always been. A little wiser, a little more experienced, and a little less innocent to the evils of the world, but still the same fiery witch that she had prided herself on being for the last twenty-five years.

And to do that and to ensure that she would always be that witch, she needed to start working on it right then and there. So she teased the other members of the Order and she laughed at Sam and Thomas' absurd jokes, trying desperately to act the same way she had always behaved around the latter, and she went out with Georgie and the girls and she let them force-feed her round after round of shots and she let them take her out dancing, and she did it all with a smile that was slowly but surely becoming more real as the days went by and that made her smile all the more brighter than before.

**Thursday, April 16****th****, 1998**

"Marty, how much longer on that burger?"

Amy leaned through the kitchen window, watching the short-order cook bustle around the kitchen. His face was red and his shirt was streaked with splattered food. He paused for a moment to shoot Amy a glare.

"If you're so damn eager to get it, why don't you come back here and make it yourself?"

He was practically growling, and Amy quickly backed off with her hands in the air. She continued to back away until she bumped into the counter behind her and she turned away to look at the other waitresses behind the counter.

"He's not in a good mood today, is he?" she asked quietly. The others shook their heads and looked carefully at the cook who was now swearing up a storm as he threw hamburger patties onto the grill. "Well, this should be a lovely day."

The others laughed quietly, but one angry shout from Marty in the kitchen had them scattering away from the kitchen window, afraid that food would come flying out of it. They had seen these moods of Marty's before, and they knew that they could quickly go from bad to worse.

Amy remained behind the counter, going through receipts and making sure everything was running smoothly. She had been working at the diner for close to ten months, and she had quickly fallen into the role of the boss and the big sister. Everyone was also coming to run things by her, and the newbies stuck to her like glue for the first few weeks, afraid to mess up and believing that she would be able to save them from any fatal errors. She didn't mind it too much, although having to listen to some of the girls continuously talk about their boyfriends was pretty tiring. It had gotten old really quickly, but she still managed to keep a smile plastered to her face for the majority of their little gossip sessions.

She was rearranging the menus and wiping down the ones that were covered in specks of food and sticky orange juice when the bell above the door chimed. Amy looked up briefly at the duo that had entered before back down at the stack of menus and she counted out two.

"Hi!" she greeted distractedly. "Welcome to The Grill! Table for two?"

There was a pause and the new customer cleared their throat.

"It's three actually," they corrected. "And it's nice to see you again, Amy."

The witch froze, her grip tightening over the menus, as she slowly forced herself to look up into the scarred face and green eyes. He gave her a timid smile and a bit of a shrug.

"Lupin," Amy finally managed to gasp out. "W-What – I don't – I mean – "

Remus laughed a bit as she continued to stutter, and Amy stopped trying to get her words out as she looked at him with sudden aggravation as it finally sunk in. Remus Lupin, the man who had abandoned one of her best friends and his unborn child, was standing in front of her and he was laughing. How dare he! How dare he think that he should be allowed to come back as he see fit and act as though he had done nothing wrong!

Amy could feel her blood begin to boil beneath her skin, and she jammed her hands onto her hips as she glowered up at the man before her.

"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" Amy demanded, cutting the wizard's laughter short. He looked down at her, taking in the angry look in her bright eyes and the red that was beginning to creep its way up her neck and across her chest. Between the furious look in her eyes and her jutting jaw, Remus seemed to realize what she was talking about and he opened his mouth to say something.

"Listen Amy," he began, but he was quickly cut off as Amy slammed her hands onto the counter.

"How can you possibly think that you can just come back here after all this time?" she hissed. "After what you did? You left your wife! And your unborn child!"

Remus looked down, obviously ashamed by what Amy was saying, and though the witch felt a wave of satisfaction wash over her, she continued on with her rant.

"How could you leave her when she needed you the most?" Amy dropped her voice, her eyes piercing and cold. "There's a war going on out there and you just left her to fend for herself. What kind of man are you? I mean, seriously Remus, how could you do that? What on earth could have possessed you to – "

There was a sudden, shrill cry from behind Remus, and Amy's words died away as he ran a hand through his thin, gray-brown hair and turned towards the cry. In a matter of seconds, Amy felt her anger slip away as she took in the sight of the woman standing just inside the door, holding a bundle of blankets close to her chest.

Tonks smiled at Amy and she shifted her bundle a bit so that she could wave faintly at her.

"Wotcher there," she said with a dazzling smile. The bundle let out another cry and Tonks looked down and cooed gently. Remus stepped away from the counter and approached the witch, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and holding out a finger towards the bundle. A small hand rose out of the fabric and wrapped itself around his finger, and the look that crossed over Remus' face was something Amy had never seen before.

Amy stood there for a moment, completely speechless as she stared at the couple. Tonks looked up after a second of her silence and smiled at the stunned look that was plastered to her friend's face.

"Are you done scolding my husband?" she asked with a smile. "Because I'd really like for you to meet your godson."

…..

"Here we go," Amy said quietly as she held the door to the small, back office open. She let Tonks and Remus go in first, and she kept her eyes to the ground. She was slightly embarrassed about the things that she had said to the wizard, but at the same time she felt as though she was justified in what she had said. Amy was sure that he had heard it all before, but she knew she would never be able to look at the wizard in the same way again unless she got a few things off her chest.

She shut the door quickly, making sure that no one had seen the group disappear into the backroom. She didn't want anyone interrupting them and she figured that this would be the best room where they could get some privacy.

When the witch turned to face the couple, she found that the two were seated side-by-side and were gazing fondly down at their son.

Tonks must have felt her watching them because she looked up and smiled brightly at Amy.

"Well?" she asked. "Are you just going to stand there?"

Amy scowled and rolled her eyes but made her way over to the couple. She pulled up a chair and set it in front of them. She sat down eagerly and bit her lip as she tried to peer over the edge of the blanket and into the face of the newest Lupin.

There was a moment of awkward silence, broken only by the sounds of clanging pots in the kitchen next door. Remus cleared his throat and wrapped an arm around his wife's shoulders.

"So," he began lowly. "How have you been?"

Amy and Tonks both turned to look at him with the same expression. Their eyes were narrowed and their brows furrowed and they couldn't help but repeat his words silently.

"Oh I'm just ducky," Amy said after a moment, the venom and sarcasm oozing and dripping off of her words. "Never better."

Silence followed her words, and Remus couldn't help but feel like a scolded school-boy. He hunched his shoulders over and leaned towards his wife.

"Was that a stupid question?" Remus muttered, keeping a wary eye on Amy who was still looking at him like he was a bit of an idiot.

Tonks to a moment to think before turning to look Remus in the eye. "Yes," she said honestly before turning back to Amy.

"He's usually not this stupid," Tonks said in an assuring voice. "I don't know what's gotten into him lately."

"Whatever," she said dismissively with a hint of a smile and a sparkle in her eyes. "Let me see my godson." She held out her hands, wriggling her fingers eagerly at the bundle of blankets. Tonks smiled at her friend's eagerness and obliged her. She stood and cradled her son's head close to her chest. Amy brought her arms together as the bundle of blankets was placed gently into her arms. Tonks slowly pulled her hands away and sat back in her seat and watched the look of pure awe and joy that crossed Amy's face.

The young witch settled into her seat, holding the bundle close to her chest. Amy smiled down at the baby, making little faces and cooing noises at the infant, who looked up at her and smiled a toothless grin.

"What's his name?" Amy asked drew the baby closer to her chest and the warm beating of her heart. She was too absorbed in staring at the baby's soft, pink face to notice the sad look that crossed over the Lupin's faces.

"We named him Teddy," Remus said after a moment. "Teddy John."

It took a moment for Amy to realize what he had said, but when she did, she looked up with sorrowful, wet eyes.

"Oh," she said. The witch looked at Tonks who was staring down at her clasped hands, her shoulders shaking slightly. Amy swallowed down whatever tears had welled up in her and smiled shakily. "I think that's the perfect name. Your father would have been so happy for you."

Tonks looked up from her hands and threw Amy a watery smile. Neither of them said anything, but they seemed to know exactly what the other was thinking, and in that singular moment, that was enough.

After a few seconds, Amy turned her attention back towards Teddy who was shifting in the warm, wool blankets in her arms. The witch pushed some of the blankets aside with her fingertips so that his sleeping face was looking up at her and she could see his small tufts of hair, curling around his ears. She cradled him in her arms, a bit unsure of how to hold him. He was delicate and soft and she was so terribly afraid that the slightest movement would break him.

"He's beautiful," she said softly, afraid to disrupt his slumber and snore. Looking down at him, she marveled at the infant as his nosed scrunched up and he let out a quiet yawn. Teddy smacked his lips a few times and then drowsily opened his eyes, and Amy couldn't help but gasp because his eyes were so incredibly bright. With every passing moment, they seemed to change, going from one hypnotizing color to the next before settling on a hazel green that was so like her own.

Amy looked up at Tonks and Remus who were sitting across from her, smiling at the wondrous look that was plastered to her face.

"Tonks," she said softly, "is he - ?"

The mother nodded and smiled brightly.

"Yeah, he is," she said with a proud air. "He started doing that about an hour after he was born. My Mum said I did the same thing."

"So there's no chance that he'll be a werewolf?" Amy asked hesitantly. She looked briefly at Remus and she saw the dark look that crossed over his face, and she hastily tried to amend her words. "Not that it would matter if he was; I just know that you were scared of that. I mean it's not like we would treat him any differently if her was, but –"

"There's no chance," Remus cut in and Amy bit her lip to stop her apologetic rambling. "Teddy may have some wolfish characteristics, but they should be worse than a liking or rare meat or moodiness."

He smiled at Amy and she smiled back before realizing that the couple before her looked so incredibly happy and that this was the happiest she had ever seen the couple before.

"Remus," Amy said carefully, "I'm sorry for what I said before." He looked up and it appeared as though he was going to cut her off again but Amy plowed on.

"It's none of my business and I had no right to say that to you and –"

"Amy," Remus said, "don't worry about it. I've heard it all before and I get it. I was pretty upset with myself as well, and what I did was terribly wrong. Luckily, I had Harry to talk some sense into me, and he sent me back with my tail between my legs. I'm just happy that Tonks was willing to take me back."

Tonks waved her hand dismissively as she smiled at Amy.

"Don't beat yourself up over it," Tonks insisted. "We've been over this."

She placed a comforting hand on her husband's arm and he sunk into her warmth. She smiled at him and placed a kiss to his weathered cheek before turning to look at Amy.

"He came back a week or so after I visited you," she explained. "We were at the Weasley's and he just appeared there, gave us all such a fright. None of them were too pleased about that."

"I think I'm still a bit bruised from where Charlie hit me," Remus said ruefully. He rubbed his jawline as though it was still ailing him and he missed the wide-eyed look that Amy shot at him.

"Charlie did what?" she asked loudly. There was a small cry from the baby and Amy looked down at him, made a small, apologetic cooing noise and began to rock her arms back and forth. Once he had settled down, Amy looked up at Tonks and Remus. "Charlie did what?" she asked again in a quieter voice.

Tonks and Remus exchanged uneasily looks.

"Well, like I said," Tonks began carefully. "He gave us all a fright. We thought for sure that a Death Eater had gotten past the boundaries and everyone's tensions were running high and I think he was just sick and tired of not really being able to do something, so he did something."

"And he did it quite well," Remus said gruffly. "Could barely move my jaw for a few days after that."

"But Charlie, I mean, it's not like him to – why would he – I don't – "

Amy rambled for several seconds before Tonks cut her off.

"You're right," Tonks agreed, "it's not like him to go off like that, and in any other, normal circumstance, I would be concerned, but you have to admit Amy, that this life that we're all living is not normal."

Amy nodded absently as she stared down at the sleeping face of Teddy Lupin. There was so much more she wanted to ask – so much more she wanted to know – about Charlie. She wanted to know how he was doing and if he was okay and safe, and the selfish part of her was desperate to know if he even still missed her or if he had gotten over her. Of course, there was another part of her that was terrified to ask because she feared the answer would be yes, that he had gotten over her and that he no longer loved her.

Amy swallowed and tried to banish these thoughts from her mind.

"And how are the others?" she asked eventually.

"They're doing as well as can be expected," Remus said after a moment. "There have been more deaths of course, and there have been some terrible rumors of things that have happened, especially at Hogwarts."

Amy looked up with wide eyes. "At Hogwarts?" she repeated. "What's happening at Hogwarts?"

Tonks and Remus exchanged looks.

"You don't know?" Tonks asked tentatively.

Amy shook her head, and Remus sighed sadly.

"Severus Snape was named as Headmaster," he told her, ignoring her gasp, "and there have been several new appointments to the staff."

"Who?" Amy demanded. She hadn't really thought about what would happen to her job at Hogwarts. Obviously they would need to do something to fill that position, but the thought had never really crossed her mind, and with Severus Snape in charge… well, that certainly spelled disaster.

"The Carrow siblings are working there now," Remus said. "They took over the Muggle Studies and Defense Against the Dark Arts classes."

"Although, now it's just Dark Arts," Tonks broke in with a dark look.

"And what about Charms?" Amy asked carefully. "Who's teaching my class now?" She was almost afraid to hear their answer, but she knew she that she needed to know who it was that had taken over her job.

There was a moment of silence, an awful silence broken only by the low mumbles of the baby that was still nestled in Amy's arms.

"Avery," Tonks said delicately, her voice barely above a whisper. "Avery is the Charms teacher now."

Amy's vision blurred and the edges turned red, a dark bloody red that was so eerily similar to her own blood. And she could see that blood, creeping across the floor, spreading and tarnishing the ground beneath her. A shiver coursed through her, and for a moment, one horrific, terrifying moment, she was back in that basement with Avery. He was leaning over her, wiping away the blood – her blood – from his knife and she was thrashing and trembling across the floor from the fever and infection that was burning away at her body, mind, and soul.

She could almost feel the cold of that cellar creeping its way down her throat, settling heavily in the pit of her stomach. She remembered how terribly cold it had been and how her fingers had felt like ice when she burrowed them against her chest, desperately seeking for any semblance of warmth that her tired body could provide her with.

There was a tingling sensation that crept its way up her leg, building up as it trickled its way through her body. The prickles accumulated in her thigh, burning through her skin and boiling over into the raised skin of her thigh, where Avery's violent and sadistic words had been carved: _Mudblood_.

"Amy?" a gentle voice broke through Amy's thoughts and her vision cleared, the crimson of fury and pain melting away, and she could see Remus and Tonks looking at her, concern etched across their faces.

"Is there anything we can do?" Amy asked in a breathy and hopeless voice. "Anything we can do to stop them? To stop _him_?"

The Lupins shook their heads forlornly.

"We've all been forced into hiding," Remus said. "We're staying with Andromeda, and Molly took Ginny out of school and they're all hiding at their Aunt Muriel's. Bill and Fleur have their cottage, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione are with them, and – "

"Wait," Amy cut in with wide eyes. "Harry, Ron, and Hermione? They're staying with Bill? They're safe? They're okay?"

Remus nodded slowly.

"For the most part," he said carefully. "They're, admittedly, a little worse for the wear, but they're alright."

"We named Harry as Teddy's godfather," Tonks said perkily. "It just seemed like the right thing to do."

"It was," Remus said immediately. "If it weren't for him, who knows how long it would have taken for me to wise up. I could have missed out on all of this; I could have missed out on Teddy, because I was afraid and foolish."

"There's nothing foolish about being afraid," Amy contradicted softly. "Fear is a very human thing, a very natural thing. It's normal to be afraid. It's foolish to act on those fears and to allow them to consume you."

Remus raised an eyebrow as he turned to look at Amy.

"What an incredibly profound thing to say," he said.

Amy shrugged.

"It's been known to happen from time to time."

…..

Eventually, Tonks and Remus announced that it was time to leave. After extracting Teddy from Amy's arms, which took quite a bit of effort on their part, Amy led the two out of the cluttered office and towards the front of the store which had begun to clear out. Amy said a quick good-bye to Remus before turning to Tonks.

The witches held onto each other for several minutes, afraid to let go. Who knew when they would see each other again – or even _if_ they would see each other again?

After a while though, Teddy began to fuss in his blankets, and Tonks immediately pulled back, her mother-switch turning on. Tonks smiled wearily, although her eyes were bright with a happiness that Amy had not seen since before the war had started.

"I should probably go tend to that, shouldn't I?" she asked with a slight laugh.

Amy chuckled and nodded.

"You probably should, yeah."

She expected Tonks to pull away but instead the Metamorphagus took a step closer to her and pressed something cool and hard into the palm of Amy's hand. The witch's fingers curled around the object and drew her hand away from Tonks'.

"Keep this on you," Tonks said urgently. "At all times. Don't let it out of your sight, okay?"

Amy pulled her hand closer to her body and peeled away her fingers to reveal a shining, gold Galleon. There was nothing extraordinary about it and certainly nothing out-of-the-ordinary about it at all, and yet with the way Tonks was acting, you would think it was the answer to all the world's problems.

"It's just a Galleon, Tonks," Amy said after a moment. She looked her friend in the eye. "What's so special about a Galleon?"

"It has a Protean Charm on it," Tonks said quietly. "That way we can message each other if something happens."

"A Protean Charm?" Amy repeated in a hushed voice. "Tonks, do you realize how difficult a charm like that is? It took me years of practice to perfect that charm. How did you - ?"

"It wasn't me," Tonks said quickly. "Hermione made this, back when she and Harry and Ron were running Dumbledore's Army. This is how they got around Umbridge that year."

"Smart girl," Amy said softly. She looked closer at the coin and flipped it through her fingers, savoring the feel of the rough ridges grinding against the soft pads of her fingertips.

"Well, she had a brilliant Charms teacher, didn't she?" Tonks said in a light voice. Amy eyed Tonks and let the corner of her mouth perk up.

"If you say so," she murmured as she continued to flip the coin around in her hand. There was a soft wailing noise from behind the witches, and they both turned to see Remus bouncing around in place, making cooing noises and trying to placate his son. He was clearly having some difficulties.

When Tonks turned back to Amy, she smiled again and hugged her friend one more time.

"You'll take care of yourself, won't you?" Amy asked. "Of yourself and of Teddy?"

Tonks smiled and nodded.

"I promise," she said. "And you'll take care of yourself as well, right?"

Amy didn't respond immediately and Tonks plowed on.

"For my sake, please? My son needs his godmother, and Charlie needs you too."

At the mention of Charlie's name, Amy looked up at Tonks and bit her lip.

"How – How is Charlie?" Amy asked. "Please, tell me the truth. Is he alright? Is he doing alright?"

Tonks smiled softly and placed her hand on Amy's forearm.

"He's fine," Tonks said quietly. "He misses you. It's clear as day how much he misses you."

"He came to Chicago," Amy said suddenly. "Back in December. He came to my parent's house and I wasn't there. He dropped off a package with a sweater in it that his Mom made. He didn't stay though. He didn't wait to see me. He just dropped off the package and left without even trying to see me."

"Amy – "

"I remember putting the sweater on that night and thinking for just a single moment that he was there with me, that none of this was real, but then I remembered that he didn't stay to see me."

"Amy – "

"And then my best friend told me that he was in love with me, and that he's been in love with me since we met when we were eleven and I kept thinking about how much I love Charlie and how I want to spend the rest of my life with him and how I want to have kids with him, kids who are just as beautiful and sweet as Teddy is – and I kept thinking that he didn't stay to see me."

"Amy," Tonks said, grabbing the rambling witch's arm. "He loves you so much. A blind man could see that. He loves you and nothing is going to change that. Not this war, not your best friend, not that sweater. He loves you and when this is all over, and it _will_ be over, you can tell him all of that and you can have that life with those kids and you can be happy. Got it?"

Amy nodded once, but Tonks didn't look too sure. She wanted to say more, but it was just then that Teddy really began to cry, and the Metamorphagus knew she couldn't say much else. Instead, she gripped Amy's arm tightly once more and leaned in close.

"Keep that coin on you," she ordered. "And believe me when I say that Charles Weasley loves you more than anything else in this world. You have to believe that, swear to me that you'll keep on believing that."

Amy looked at Tonks, her hazel eyes wide and bright, although with what neither of the witches was entirely sure.

"I promise," she whispered. "I promise."

She held up the Galleon and then slipped it into the pocket of her jeans. Tonks hugged her once more, and then Amy watched the Lupin family disappear into the gathering darkness of the Chicago evening. Amy crossed her arms over her chest, squeezing her torso to try and contain the flood of tears and emotions that were threatening to overwhelm her entirely.

…..

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Like I said, not the greatest, but it's something and GUYS DO YOU SEE WHAT MONTH IT IS. DO YOU SEE THAT DATE. GET READY GUYS. GET READY.

With love,

WiseGirl


	76. Chapter 75

**AN:** Hello hello! I hope you all have been well since we last spoke! I know it's been awhile but... IT'S WINTER BREAK which means... NO HOMEWORK (finally, CPS did _something_ right) which also means... MORE POSTS (hopefully...)! Anyway, I've been working on this chapter for awhile (particularly in class when I'm supposed to be paying attention, but let's be honest, HFY is much more entertaining than maximum utility and consumption or mitosis any day of the week.

**Dedication:** To my best friend in the whole world! Happy belated birthday, my dear. I can't tell you how far you've carried me the last year and how much strength you've given me over the last seventeen years.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing you recognize.

* * *

><p><em>Remember that good things come in threes<br>and so do bad things,  
>and always apologize when you've done something wrong,<br>but don't you ever apologize for the way your eyes refuse to stop shining.  
>Your voice is small, but don't ever stop singing.<em>

_-_Sarah Kay from her poem "B"

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><p><strong>Saturday, April 25<strong>**th****, 1998**

As the days grew longer and the sun grew warmer, green began to blossom across the world and Amy embraced the change in season with a vivacious vitality that she had though extinct. The days were changing, growing, morphing, developing, and Amy prayed to whatever higher being lived up in the blue skies that times would change too, and maybe – just maybe – she'd be able to return home.

All who came in contact with the witch, whether it was her customers at the diner, her family, he friends, or her fellow Order of the Phoenix members, were sure to leave with a surprising smile stretched across their face.

As the days grew warmer and sunnier, so did Amy. The icy bitterness that had encased her heart, mind, and soul was melting away to reveal a better, brighter Amy Wyman.

The other Order members in particular had taken notice of the change in the witch, and with the change in her previously frost character, there came a change in their meetings – a change which was welcomed by all. They were no longer drilled or lectured or beaten senseless with Amy's words of anger and, at times, ridicule.

Instead, Amy began to open up more about why it was she fighting – what it was she was fighting for – and why those before her had fought. She told them the tragic story of Lily and James Potter – though they all knew it – filling in the blanks and revealing the truth behind the betrayal that resulted in a broken family. She told them of Dumbledore and how he was one of the most miraculous and awe-inspiring people she had ever met and would ever meet. She told them of Tonks and Remus, the love story of two star-crossed lovers. She told them of the Golden Trio and of Sirius Black and Mad-Eye Moody. She told them of the original Order of the Phoenix members. She told them tales of her students and the goofy things that they did, of the swamp that the Twins had left behind, and the thousands of smiles they had gifted to those they met and to some they'd never know.

And once she had exhausted the stories she knew of others, once she had run out of tales that brought smiles to her friends' and peers' faces, she found herself telling her own story.

The story of a witch who took a job – mainly to start a life away from her exuberant and prying family – and who found a new family and friends and the love of her life, all in one fantastical mix.

Of course, she hadn't given these details of her life away willingly. Rather, they were extracted from he with great care and much coaxing, but once the words began to drip from her lips, like a faucet that had been under pressure for far too long, it was impossible for her to prevent the deluge of facts and details and stories and lives – because aren't stories the lives lived by those we admire the most? – that were drained from her.

Her story came last and while it may not have come entirely too willingly, it did come at the insistence of her friends.

"I really hate to say this," Mike began slowly, one spring day when the group was gathered around the table in the stuffy backroom of Robyn's mother's store, "but these meetings are getting kind of boring." He paused and looked hesitantly at Amy. "No offense," he mumbled in reprieve.

Fear was the backlight of his eyes, as though he expected the witch to lash out and rip him to shreds. Instead, she laughed and nodded her head, her brown curls bouncing around the angles of her cheerful face.

"They are a bit boring, aren't they?" she asked with a slight giggle. She ran a hand through her hair, still laughing. It took her a moment to realize that those gathered around the worn table were looking at her in shock.

Her laughter died down after a few seconds, and she looked curiously from one bewildered face to the next.

"What?" Amy asked in a rather indignant tone.

"You just admitted you thought these meetings were boring," Celeste said in an amazed voice.

"And you laughed," Eddie added quietly. "You actually laughed."

"Am I not allowed to laugh anymore?" Amy asked loudly, crossing her arms over her chest. "I've laughed before."

"Yeah, but you didn't even lecture us or anything," Robyn pointed out. "Usually there's a lecture."

"Would you like me to lecture you?" Amy asked. "I'm sure I could find something worth getting on my soapbox for – "

"No!"

The entire group raised their hands in protest and Amy fell back against her seat with a slight smile.

"That's what I thought," she mumbled. She straightened up after a moment and raised her voice so that they could all hear her. "So if these meetings are getting so boring, what is it you want to do?"

The group looked at each other, a tad unsure and even more surprised as to what Amy was asking. She really wanted to know what _they_ wanted to do? She wasn't going to force them into some exercise or make them do drills and practice their spell work?

… Was she sick?

"Can you – " Jane started slowly, breaking off as everyone turned to look at her. She swallowed awkwardly, unaccustomed to their stares before continuing cautiously. "Can you tell us about what it was like over at Hogwarts before all of this started?"

Amy slowly unfolded her arms and she looked uneasily at her friends and classmates gathered around the scratched table.

"What do you mean?" she asked carefully. "I've told you stories about Hogwarts before I left. You've heard them all before."

Jane straightened up and looked Amy in the eye, which was surprisingly uncharacteristic of the normally shy girl.

"I mean, what was your life like in England? You job, your students, your friends, your life?" Jane stressed the last word as she looked Amy directly in the eye. The witch shifted uncomfortably, not entirely sure that she wanted to have this conversation with them right then and there.

But when she looked up into their expectant faces, she knew there would be no denying them this one, simple question.

"Well," she began slowly and all those gathered shifted expectantly in their seats as though they were toddlers settling in for story time, "You all know I worked at Hogwarts as the Charms Professor. This would have been my fourth year there."

She paused for a moment and let out a surprising laugh. When she noticed the odd looks they were giving her, she smiled dazzlingly.

"Sorry," she said in a completely unapologetic voice, "It's just that I only just realized how odd the past few years have been for me."

"What do you mean?" Tiffany asked from behind her mane of curls.

"Well, Hogwarts isn't exactly normal," Amy explained. "At least not from and outsider's point of view, but it's only hitting me now how weird these last few years have been."

They all looked so incredibly enthralled with what she had to say that Amy couldn't help but smile mischievously as she delved into the past four years of her life and the future that awaited her when she finally – _finally_ – returned home.

…..

When the meeting was over and the others had departed, Amy remained in the backroom of the store. She was cleaning up the little bits and pieces that the group had left behind, pushing in chairs and straightening things up. She was so focused on the task at hand that she missed the awkward shuffling of feet that came from the corner of the room.

It wasn't until she heard someone clear their throat that Amy realized she wasn't alone in the shadowy room.

She turned with a slight squeak, her hand already reaching for her wand, but she stopped short as she took in Thomas' sheepish expression in the dark corner of the room.

"Thomas!" she said, letting out with a breath of relief. "I didn't know you were there. I thought I was alone."

"Sorry," he said with an apologetic smile. "Didn't mean to scare you."

Amy straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin a bit.

"You didn't scare me," she said indignantly as she crossed her arms over her chest. Thomas raised an eyebrow at her and smirked a little.

"Right, of course not," he agreed sarcastically. "Jumping like a teenager in a haunted house is just your typical way of greeting people, yes?"

Amy made a face and stuck her tongue out at the wizard who laughed loudly. When his laughter died away, he stepped from the shadows and helped her finish moving the chairs back to where they were supposed to be.

They worked in companionable silence for some time, and Amy couldn't help but smile slightly, relief filling up inside of her. She'd been worried for the longest time that they would never be able to repair their friendship after Thomas had admitted that he cared for her as more than just a friend. It had been several months since that wintery nights and the two still couldn't look the other in the eye without one of them turning away hastily with either a blush or a guilty conscience.

It wasn't until the last chair had been pushed in and the final scrap of paper was vanished from the floor that Thomas spoke up.

"Amy?" he began softly, drawing the witch's attention away from her spot on the opposite side of the room. She looked up with wide eyes and a curious expression. Her eyes glossed over his nervous expression and she gave a small smile in an attempt to soothe his anxiety. Seeing that smile cross over her face proved to be all of the encouragement he needed and he plowed on with a speech he had been preparing for weeks.

"I've been thinking about what happened back in January," he said quickly as he knew the second he said these words, Amy would retreat from the conversation. He was right; the moment his words slipped from his lips, she blanched and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. "About what happened, about what I said, and about what you said and – "

"Thomas," Amy said quietly, "I really don't – "

"– and I'm sorry."

Amy paused and looked at Thomas with a furrowed brow. He was sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck and his other hand was tucked into his back pocket. When he saw Amy's confused look, he gave her a little half-smile.

"Bet you didn't think you'd ever hear me say that, huh?" he said with a laugh. Amy didn't respond but Thomas didn't care. He was on a roll now; he needed to get this all out right then and there when he had the courage or nothing would ever happen and nothing would ever be fixed between the two friends.

"I was wrong," Thomas told the witch sincerely. "It was wrong of me to say all that to you and to tell you that I was in love with you when I knew it would only hurt you. I knew you didn't care for me that way, and I knew that it could ruin our friendship and yet I still said it, and that was wrong of me. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Don't apologize for that," Amy said quietly, drawing Thomas' attention away from the worn floor and to her face. "Don't ever apologize for saying what you believe and what you know to be true. Please don't ever apologize for that."

Thomas was silent for a moment.

"Fine," he said eventually, "but that won't stop me from apologizing to you for the cruel things that I said and that won't stop me from apologizing to you for picking the worst possible time to admit my feelings for you." He let out a loud laugh that took Amy by surprise. "I mean, you had just got done telling me about this wizard of yours and how he proposed to you or was going to propose to you and you were sitting there eagerly with your 'yes' resting on the tip of your tongue. How could I have thought that was a good time to tell you that I'd had a crush on you since we were eleven?"

"I admit that it probably wasn't the best time," Amy said carefully, "but that doesn't mean it was wrong of you to do so, and besides, it's partly my fault anyway. I spent so much time dwelling on myself and everything that's happening in London and acting so righteous and pretentious that I missed out on what was happening all around me in that moment. I should have realized sooner and I should have done something about it sooner, but I was so wrapped up in myself and this war and Charlie and everything else in my life that I failed to see what was happening in the lives of my dearest friends, and for that, I need to apologize just as much as you."

"Well, just so you know," Thomas said with a smirk, "after hearing your life story of the past few years, I sort of understand the whole self-absorption and I even get why you fell in love with your wizard. I mean, who wouldn't fall in love with a badass dragonologist who plays Quidditch and acts the way he does? I'm half in love with him already!"

Amy laughed loudly, taken them both by surprise at the pure joy that emanated from it.

"Oh Thomas," she said with a giggle before she crossed the room and pulled him into a hug. She wrapped her arms around his waist and he wrapped his around her shoulders. There was no awkwardness between the two and for the first time in a long time, Amy finally felt as though something was right. That something was normal in her life.

They pulled away after a moment, smiling brightly at each other.

"One more thing," Thomas said suddenly, evidently remembering one key note. "I also know better than most why it was that this Charlie fell in love with you so quickly. I mean, what guy wouldn't fall in love with a witch like you?"

His smile was soft and almost teasing and Amy knew in that moment that they had put this whole thing behind them. Still, she couldn't help but blush and swat at his arm jokingly.

"Yeah, who wouldn't love a stubborn, bossy witch like me?" she asked.

Thomas made a face.

"Oh, I forgot about that part," he said in mock sincerity. "When you put it that way…"

He trailed off tentatively and Amy laughed again before reaching out to grab his arm, drawing his attention to her. They locked eyes and Amy smiled again.

"I do love you, Thomas," Amy said earnestly, gripping his arm tightly. "I have and I always will, but I will never be _in _love with you, and I'm sorry for that. You're one of my best friends and any woman – witch or Muggle – will be lucky to have you. I know that's a bit clichéd to say but it's the honest-to-God truth."

Thomas smiled in reply before holding out his elbow for her to latch onto.

"C'mon," he said brightly. "Let's get a drink, and you can help me find this future lucky woman of mine."

Amy smiled dazzlingly and looped her arm through his, allowing her friend to lead her from the dusty, shadowy backroom that hid the sunny warmth of the day.

**Friday, May 1****st****, 1998**

Music crackled through the speakers of an age-old boom-box as Amy settled into place before the mirror which hung from the back of her door. Behind her she could hear the chirps and twitters of her friends as they bounced from end of the room to the other, leaving behind a trail of clothing, shoes, make-up, glitter, and abounding happiness.

"So what exactly do you have planned for us tonight?" Kate asked some corner of the room where she was changing. "Something scandalous, I hope."

Amy nodded in assurance from the other side of the room, being carefully not to smudge the make-up that she had been meticulously painting across her features.

"Oh, but of course," the witch said in all seriousness. "Only the best for my very risqué band of friends."

"Risqué?" Michelle repeated from Amy's bed where Georgie was carefully fixing her hair. The small girl shot Amy a curious look which she took note of in the reflection of the mirror.

The witch paused in the middle of putting on lipstick and turned to her friends with a small shrug of her slight shoulders.

"I figured risqué was nicer than slutty or skanky," she said honestly and with a straight face, despite the laughter she could feel building up within her chest.

She turned back to the task at hand, ignoring the gasps and playfully hurt expressions that adorned her friends' faces.

"We are not slutty!" Kate protested indignantly. "I'll have you know I was raised a good, _pure_ Christian girl."

"That dress of yours says otherwise," Amy said without hesitation and with a smirk at the very short and sequined dress that was wrapped tightly around Kate's body.

"This is a bachelorette party!" Kate cried, thrusting her hands onto her hips. "It would be inappropriate of me to _not_ dress like this. I mean, look at you! You're dressed the same!"

Amy looked down at her outfit and turned to disagree, wanting to tell Kate that her flowered dress – which fell well below her mid-thigh and was not tight or sequined and it didn't show an exorbitant amount of cleavage – was neither inappropriate nor slutty in the slightest. But the witch was cut off as Michelle stepped in between the two friends.

"Alright, alright, alright," she said quickly before Amy or Kate could say anymore. "That's enough."

She turned to look at Amy and pointed a finger at her.

"Firstly," she said, "I'm sure whatever you have planned for us tonight is going to be wonderful and amazing and all those other good things." She waited for Amy to nod in assurance before turning to the pouting Katherine who was tugging at the sequins woven into her dress.

"Secondly," Michelle said with a bright smile, "You do not look slutty, Katie. You look gorgeous, and even if you did look a bit skanky, I don't have a problem with that, because, like you said, this is a bachelorette party. More importantly, however, this is _my_ bachelorette party and I say you can look as slutty or non-slutty as you want. Alright?"

Kate nodded and gave Michelle a perky smile. She waited for Michelle to turn her back before the blonde stuck her tongue out teasingly at Amy who laughed and returned the favor.

The girls returned to their preparations for the night ahead. It was, in fact, Michelle's bachelorette party. Her last night of legitimate freedom before she entered into the chains of marriage with the Lord of all Evil and Despair – all Amy's words of course – Rich Wyman. Michelle, not surprisingly, was excited for the night and even more excited for the new few weeks that were to come – especially the ones that would be accompanied by her husband-to-be. And while the bachelorette party wasn't typically reserved to bridesmaids' only, Michelle had insisted on a small affair with her closest friends. It wouldn't be as memorable or as much fun if she had to entertain a dozen other girls.

"Well," Michelle said when someone had first mentioned the size of the party, "most of the best days of my life have been accompanied by these three girls, and I certainly want every day leading up to my wedding and every after to be the best days of my life."

There was no deterring the small girl's excitement, and no one would ever dare try. Michelle was the happiest she'd been in a good, long while and there was not a soul who knew the girl who would ever want to take that away from her.

"So now that we've covered the fact that we're all beautiful butterflies rather than slutty snakes," Georgie began as she finished up on Michelle's hair, "mind telling us what we're doing tonight, Amy-Boo?"

"I was thinking something along the lines of getting completely wasted, hitting up a few clubs, and dancing like complete fools for all of Chicago to see," Amy said, moving aside so Georgie could kidnap the mirror. "I know that's a typical weekday for you, Georgie, but I'm sure you'll still have fun."

"Oh har har," Georgie scoffed, throwing the witch a dark look. "You're so funny, Amy."

"Aren't I though?" Amy asked with a gracious, albeit teasing, smile.

Georgie glared at Amy through the reflection of the mirror but she did not turn away as she was carefully and meticulously applying eyeliner – one slip of the wrist and the entire group would be set back an hour, at least.

"Are you sure that's all you have planned for us tonight?" Georgie asked suspiciously.

"Why?" Amy asked with a grin. "Hoping for a change of pace? I thought you would be excited for a night of drinking and debauchery. You of all people should be up for that, Georgie."

"Oh believe me," Georgie countered from her place in front of the mirror. "I am, but I'm afraid I don't believe in your abilities to plan an evening like that. I get the feeling we're going to end up in a bookstore before the night is over."

"Ha ha ha," Amy said dully. "I get it, I'm nerdy. Now shush or die."

Georgie turned to stick her tongue out at Amy, and the witch threw the tube of mascara at her friend in response, thus initiating a war between the two.

Michelle and Kate rolled their eyes at their friends' antics. They were used to this by now and they understood that it wouldn't be a real girls' night without a sass-competition between Amy and Georgie.

When they were all dolled up and dressed to the nines, they began to trail out of Amy's room. Rich was gone, out with his buddies and so they didn't have to worry about him kidnapping his bride-to-be – who looked quite gorgeous – before they went out for a night on the town.

Amy was the last to tromp out of her room, and just as she was passing by her desk, a glitter of gold caught her eye. She stopped, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor as she turned to look at the speckle of metal.

The Galleon that Tonks had handed her was propped up against the desk, sparkling in the light of the fading sun that gleamed through the lace curtains that guarded the windows. It looked exceptionally ordinary sitting in the middle of her desk, surrounded by a slew of bobby pins and hair ties, nail polish and lipstick, Muggle currency and empty packs of gum.

Amy reached for it, running her fingers over the cool gold as she remembered her conversation with Tonks only a few weeks earlier.

"_Keep this on you,_" Tonks' voice echoed through her mind. "_At all times_." The timbre in her voice was so insistent, so desperate to know that Amy would always have the coin on her.

The witch took the Galleon and slipped it into the pocket of her dress. It was half on a whim – a nagging feeling that had been growing inside of her for some time now – and half due to her need to fulfill that single promise to Tonks.

She stood there for a moment, allowing herself to become accustomed to the feeling of the heavy coin dragging down the skirt of her dress before she flipped the light off and followed her friends out the door and into the evening night which was illuminated by the fluttering lights of buildings.

…..

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> I hope you all enjoyed and btdubs... DID YOU SEE THAT DATE?

I had actually planned on making this chapter longer, but then I decided to split it up. I know... I know, I'm sorry and I'm a terrible person, how could I leave you hanging, oh the feels, I'm a heartless wench, why would you leave me like that when we're so close to Chamy and all that jazz -

BUT.

This means I'm already half-way through the next chapter so...

I could be seeing all of you very, _very_ soon...

(I'm not making any promises though because I am a lazy person, and it's Christmas (and ohmygod they're going to kill the doctor! Matt no! But I do love Peter but Matt!) and I think this time of the year is supposed to be spent with family or something like that, but let's be honest, my family is obnoxious and I spend most of my day trying to get away from them so...)

Happy Holidays!

WiseGirl


	77. Chapter 76

**AN: **Hey look! I'm back! That was speedy, wasn't it? Well, I'd like to say thank you for all the lovely reviews that I got from you my darling readers. I'm not going to spend much time talking here because there's this great, new chapter waiting for you to read! Enjoy!

**Dedication**: To my phenomenal friend Lydia who's been so great this past year! You're a muse and an angel and I can't thank you for putting up with my insanity for this long!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

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><p><span><em>A Terrible<em> _Need_

_some people simply search out  
>unhappiness, they'll scrounge it out<br>in any given situation  
>taking any whim<br>any simple error  
>and then becoming hateful<br>vengeful._

_don't they realize that  
>there's so little<br>time?  
>and to mutilate it<br>like this...  
>there's never<br>ever  
>any way<br>to recover  
>all that was<br>wasted._

_-_Charles Bukowski

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><p><strong>Friday, May 1<strong>**st****, 1998**_  
><em>

Colors blossomed over the walls of the club, flashing and swirling in intricate designs as Amy made her way through the throng of party-goers. The girls had been out for several hours by now, and the night only grew quieter and darker as the club grew louder and brighter. The club hadn't been as packed as it was now when the group of friends had first arrived. They had managed to find a table to themselves and once the party had picked up a bit, they threw themselves into the mix of dancers and drinkers, as they let loose and had some fun. In between planning the wedding, and dealing with work, and doing whatever else it was that they each did, it was nice – and what a relief – to just kick back and have some fun for once.

It didn't hurt that the club had lots and lots of liquor.

After several hours of dancing and acting like fools, the girls had retreated back to their table and sent Amy off to get them drinks. As the maid-of-honor, they all told her, it was her responsibility to keep them liquored up throughout the night. If they were sober for ever a minute, then her title would be revoked and someone would take her place. Georgie had already volunteered, of course, and Amy had no doubt in her mind that her dark haired friend would be able to get them completely hammered in a matter of minutes.

"Alright," Amy said as she made her way carefully back to the table. "Here we go."

The witch set down the several glasses that she had been balancing precariously in her hands on the table, and the trio of girls gathered around it let out several whoops and hollers at the sight of the booze.

"It took you long enough!" Michelle cried as she pulled one of the glasses close to her. The other girls chimed in their agreement and Amy rolled her eyes.

"What did you expect?" she asked with a laugh. "We're at a club on a Friday night and you expect there to not be a line at the bar?"

"Well of course there's a line!" Georgie said in a 'duh' tone. "But you're supposed to use your feminine wiles to get yourself to the front of that line."

"My feminine wiles?" Amy cried over the music with a laugh. "What feminine wiles?"

"Oh you know," the brunette said with a dismissive wave as she reached for one of the shot glasses, cradling the drink close to her chest. "Swing them hips and give a little pout. Stuff your bra or something. Maybe try smiling. I've heard people like girls who smile once every twenty years or so."

"And how's that worked out for you in the past?" the witch asked as she took a sip of her own drink.

"Pretty damn well, actually," Georgie said in a moment of uncharacteristic seriousness. "I've managed to get completely wasted some nights without spending a penny and I somehow managed to get home in one piece with my purse, and my shoes, and the same dress I was wearing when I left. All in all, that's a pretty good night."

"You are ridiculous," Amy laughed. Georgie stuck her tongue out at Amy drunkenly. The gesture proved to be a bit much for her because she wobbled in her seat and was forced to brace herself against the table top to stop herself from falling over.

Everyone laughed at the look on their friend's face and they collapsed against each other and the table as they let themselves be consumed by fits of giggles.

When their laughter had died away again, Amy took another sip of her drink before standing up. The others gathered at the table looked at her.

"I've got something I'd like to say," Amy began cheerfully, "and seeing as my brother has already proposed to dear Michelle here, I guess I'm just going to have to propose a toast instead."

She held up her glass and waited for Georgie and Kate to do the same before continuing on.

"Michelle, I've known you for almost twenty years now and I think we can all admit that it has been a wonderful twenty years." Kate and Georgie nodded in drunken agreement and Amy smiled at the duo. "We've been with you through thick and thin and you've been with us as well, and I thank my lucky stars every day for that.

"I still think it was a bit of a mistake to make me your Maid of Honor, considering I'm rather formidable and aggressive and I hate wedding planning, but thank you for proving that I am, in fact, your favorite."

Georgie and Kate booed at this point, shaking their heads vehemently while Michelle held up her hands in surrender.

"I never said that!" the woman protested laughingly, trying to appease her still booing friends. "But I didn't deny it either." She grinned slyly at Amy who laughed.

"Okay, okay," the witch said brightly. "Onto a more serious note, yes?" She waited for the hustle and bustle at her table to die down a little before continuing on.

"Michelle, you've been our best friend for our entire lives basically, and I find myself failing to put together an accurate description of how amazing of a friend you truly are. How can I convey in mere words how brilliant you are? There will never be enough nouns, adjectives, or made-up words to describe how wonderful you are and how lucky we all are to know you, and how incredibly lucky and shockingly fortunate my brother is to have you.

"So, here's to you, Michelle," Amy raised her glass a little higher, Georgie and Kate following suit as they turned their attention to their soon-to-be married friend. "Here's to the most wonderful girl we ever could know and here's to hoping that the rest of your life is just as magical as the rest. Congrats baby-girl. We love you so very much. Cheers!"

"Cheers!" Kate and Georgie cried in unison and they raised their glasses, tapping them against the others with a resounding clink.

Michelle blushed as Amy took her seat and she shook her head laughingly.

"You're all so amazing," she said softly. "Thank you for everything, and I really mean everything. You've always been there for me and I can't thank you enough for that. I've been so fortunate to have friends like you who I can tell anything to and I can't thank you enough for putting up with me for all these years."

"I think you've been putting up with us more than we've been putting up with you," Kate muttered with a pointed look at the teetering Georgie. They laughed, dissolving into a fit of giggles.

"And while I'm flattered that you feel you can tell me anything," Amy teased, "please refrain from tell me anything about what you and my brother get up to on your lonesome. Really, I don't need to know about that. Ever."

"I promise," Michelle laughed, and her giggles set the rest of them off.

They were smiling and laughing and the music boomed overhead. All around them, people were dancing and laughing and reveling in the warmth of the oncoming spring. They had no fears and no idea of the evil that was out in the world. The biggest thing they worried about was how they would be getting home that night, and even that issued could be resolved with a simple phone call to a taxi service.

Even Amy allowed herself to forget about everything; about the worries and fears that she carried on her shoulders for the last nine months. Instead she basked in the glimmering of the lights that cascaded around the party-goers, casting away the shadows of their lives. Swirls of colors that swam around them all, embracing every one of them as the music and the sights reached inside to draw out the partyer buried underneath the stress of work and relationships and family.

It was as she was reaching for her glass that she felt it: a burning sensation that spread across her leg. It was sudden and Amy flinched, drawing her hand away from her drink. Her fingers curled inwards, her hand becoming a fist, as she stared down at the skirt of her dress from which the warmth radiated.

With tentative fingers, Amy reached into the pocket of her skirt and wrapped her fingers around the scorching piece of metal. She could feel the ridges of the coin sear into her skin, but she took no notice as she slowly drew it from her pocket.

A stray stream of light washed over her and Amy was just able to make out the letters etched across the top of the burning Galleon.

_Lightning has struck_.

…..

Amy sat at the table, ignorant to the thumping of the heavy music and the laughter of her friends. She could focus only on the coin that now rested in her hand. The heat had slowly ebbed away, leaving the metal cool and almost chilly in the palm of her hand.

Michelle's laughter rang out above the rest and Amy was ripped from her thoughts.

She stood up suddenly, nearly knocking over her chair and succeeding in tipping her drink over in the process.

The girls looked up, startled and their laughter slowly died away as they took note of Amy's heaving chest, white fists, and the look of shock and terror that was scratched across her face. They didn't say anything for several moments, only exchanging glances as Amy's heart continued to race and her hands began to shake.

"Amy?" Katherine finally asked softly. Her voice was just above a whisper but they could all hear her question through the pounding music. "Are you alright?"

When Amy didn't respond at first, Katherine looked at her other friends before reaching out to touch Amy's arm lightly.

"Amy?"

The witch looked up at her, her eyes wide and glistening in the flashing lights of the club. She grasped for words, wishing she could explain and wishing that she didn't have to.

"I-I," she stammered, desperate to find the words to accurately depict the feat that was slicing through her in that exact moment. She could feel the rough ridges of the coin cutting into the palm of her hand as she tightened her grip on the totem.

Fear and anxiety was building up inside of her, curling and twisting itself into a coil at the bottom of her stomach, and then she remembered that this was what she had been waiting for to happen for months. She had been waiting for this message because it meant an end to this madness. An end to the chaos that had taken control over her world and that had held the reins of fear and pain over the heads of thousands so firmly for far too long. This was the beginning of the end, and Amy could only pray that she would be able to see the end and the glorious dawn that followed it when the battle was finally done.

This message also meant that she could finally return home. She could finally return to her apartment, and her job, and her friends.

She could finally return to Charlie.

"I have to go," Amy gasped out suddenly.

The witch didn't wait for her friends to say anything as she took off running, leaving her seat pushed out and her drink dripping over the side of the table.

She pushed her way through the mass of sweaty and grimy bodies, trying desperately to reach the door. It was much too hot in here, she could barely breathe, and it was all too stifling. The music was pulsing through her, setting the pace of her rapidly beating heart, and the mixture of laughter, sweat, and alcohol that mixed in the air, creating a thick and muggy atmosphere, was not conducive to her agitated state.

Amy couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, it was all simply too much.

There were too many people, the music was too loud, the idea that the war was starting – that a battle was happening, that she was about to fight, perhaps to the death – was too much to handle.

_Lightning has struck_. _Lightning has struck_. _Lightning has_ –

Amy burst out the emergency exit, stumbling into the wet and dirty alleyway. Her chest was heaving and her mind was racing and she collapsed against the side of the club, feeling the throb of the music pulsing through the wall and into her body.

She couldn't do this, it was all too much. She could hear her breaths, tight and high as her heart rate picked up and she was gasping for air, begging for a single gulp of air to clear her mind and soul of the madness ringing through her. Amy clenched her hands, her nails digging into the brick wall against her back as she searched for any semblance of strength and comfort.

She needed it; she needed something, something to draw her back, something to save her from the looming cloud of war that was starting to pour down over her.

Amy didn't want to go, she didn't want to leave, she didn't want to go off to war. She had spent so much time dreaming of returning home, wishing desperately for this war to be over and now here it was. The last stepping stone, the final corner to turn. One more step and this would all be over. She could go home. She could return to her life. She could return to Charlie and his warm, weathered arms, cheery smile and dazzling eyes, and his profound ability to make her laugh and smile like no one else. She was returning home to the love of her life. One last war and it would all be over. She could be happy again – really, truly happy.

If only she lived through it.

The door behind her burst open and Amy turned, her hand grasping at the wand she had hidden in the folds of her skirt. She drew it, her grip tight around the cool wood, ready to defend herself against whatever unknown foe came barreling through the doorway, but instead of facing a hoard of dark wizards, Amy found herself staring down the length of her wand at her friends.

Fear and concern were etched into their expressions, and Amy immediately let her hand with her wand flop down to her side.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, knowing that the sight of her with glistening, blazing eyes and her wand thrust threateningly in their faces was terrifying.

That was not a side of herself that she had ever wanted her friends to see. She had never wanted them to know of the danger and horror and utter terror that accompanied her life. She had never wanted them to know how dangerous she really was, because in all honesty, she was dangerous. She was something to be feared. She had powers that they could only ever dream of, powers which gave her the ability to smite them where they stood and leave only tiny piles of ashes in their place. Powers that could make them fall in love with the next person they saw – stranger or not – or to curse them into oblivion where they not only knew where they were, but who they were and even what they were.

The very idea of Amy using her magic against her friends – a group of girls she had known as long as she could remember – caused the witch to dissolve into tears, slumping against the side of the club once more. Sobs racked through her body and her shoulders shook fiercely as she tried to repress the build-up of tears and anxiety that had coiled up within her.

"Amy," Michelle said softly, stepping towards her friend with tentative steps. "Amy, sweetie, what is it?"

The small woman stepped closer to the witch and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, feeling the sobs wrack through her. Amy reached up and gripped her friend's hand tightly, using it as her anchor, reminding herself that she was sitting in the alley of a club in the middle of Chicago and she was needed elsewhere.

She let out a sudden gasp, letting go of Michelle's hand as she felt the Galleon flare up in the palm of her hand, scorching the delicate skin.

The others in the alley watched as Amy opened her fist and stared down at the small piece of gold in her grasp. They watched her study its features carefully, her brow furrowed and her chin trembling as she did so and the tears still streamed slowly down her face.

_Lightning has struck_. _Lightning has struck_. _Lightning has_ –

"Lightning has struck?" Kate read softly as she peered into Amy's hand. The witch looked up as her blonde friend inched away from her carefully. "What does that mean?"

Amy didn't look at them. She couldn't look at them. She couldn't tell them what it meant because that would mean accepting the reality of it all and she didn't know if she was ready for that. Oh yes, she was ready to return home to Charlie and everyone and everything else that she loved, but she would have to fight her way there. She would have to fight to get what she wanted and there was a very real possibility that she wouldn't see the end.

But she couldn't tell her friends – her sisters – that. She couldn't tell them that she was going into war and that this could be the last time they saw each other. She couldn't tell them that this may be their last night of normalcy because if Voldemort won, what was stopping him from taking over the Muggle world too? She couldn't tell them that this could be it, for all of them, that they could lose everything they had and everything they would have had in their lives.

She couldn't tell them the truth.

But at the same time, she knew she couldn't leave without telling them something. She couldn't bear the idea that they last time they saw each other; they would be ignorant of the future that awaited them. She couldn't let them go off into the world, unsuspecting and unknowing of the very real future that lay before them. She couldn't live with herself if she left them without telling them everything, without telling them how much she loved them and how much they meant to her.

She couldn't lie to them.

"It means," Amy said in a raspy and ragged voice, "that I need to go."

There was silence for a moment, broken only by the thrum and throb of the blaring music inside the club.

"What do you mean you have you go?" Georgie demanded. All indication that she had been totally wasted only ten minutes ago was gone. Her drunken stature and drunken nature had been replaced by a woman with fierce features and an indignant tone at the very idea of her friend leaving – and in the middle of a party too!

Amy let out a ragged laugh.

"I mean, that I have to go," Amy said. She struggled to stand up, bracing herself against the slick brick wall as she did so. When she had righted herself, she wiped away the few stray tears that had taken up residence on her face. "Right now."

"You can't just leave!" Georgie cried venomously, throwing her hands in the air. "This is Michelle's bachelorette party! We're supposed to be having fun! You can't just up and leave!"

"Georgie – " Amy began wearily but she was cut off by the brunette's rant.

"I mean, c'mon Amy!" Georgie raged. "We've been trying to fix you for months now, to get you out of this godforsaken slump that you've been in since you came back from London, and now you're telling us that the second we finally get you acting like yourself again you just want to up and leave? I mean, what the hell, Amy!"

"I don't understand," Kate broke in softly, ignoring Georgie's grumbles and rants. "What does the message mean? What's going on?"

Amy looked up suddenly, her eyes darting from one girl's face to the next, taking in the fury and curiosity and anxiety that were molded into their expressions.

"It means that the battle has started," Amy said quietly, watching as the girl's expressions faded into fear and confusion. "That the moment we've all been waiting for is here, and I have to go. I have to go and fight."

"Fight?" Georgie repeated furiously. "Amy, you're not a soldier! They can't just call you up to fight whenever they want. There isn't a draft!"

"There isn't a draft," Amy agreed, brushing aside a chunk of hair that had fallen into her face so that she could look Georgie in the eye. "I volunteered, years ago, because I knew something like this would happen."

Her words silenced Georgie's seething and the brunette stumbled over her words as she listened to what it was Amy was saying.

"After Cedric Diggory died in my first year," the witch explained, "the headmaster of Hogwarts asked me to join an organization he had founded some twenty years earlier. He wanted to create a force to fight against a Dark Wizard who was rising to power. They succeeded the first time in defeating him, but he returned and was responsible for Cedric's death and for so many more.

"Dumbledore asked me to help him and I couldn't say no. Not because I couldn't defy the wishes of one of the most revered wizards of all time, but because it was the right thing for me to do. I haven't regretted that moment once, and for the past three years, I've been fighting to protect my world – this one and the Wizarding one. The only reason I came here, the only reason I left, was because this Dark Wizard rose to power and took over, and Charlie – "

Amy stopped, taking in a deep, heaving breath as she tried to find the words to describe what a hell her life had been for the past four years.

"Charlie couldn't bear the idea of me being in danger," she choked out. "And he begged me to leave. I left behind the love of my life so that he could have a single moment to himself where he wasn't thinking about me, but I know that there hasn't been a moment in the past nine months where I wasn't thinking of him. I've told you this before, but you didn't know the whole truth and now that you do I hope you understand why it is I have to leave. I know you may not be happy about it, but this is reality, and reality is rarely ever happy."

"What about us?" Michelle whispered. "Don't you care about us?"

Amy didn't get a chance to reply before Georgie cut in furiously.

"You're so concerned about everyone that you care about over there that you've forgotten about the people you care about – and the ones who care about you – who are right in front of you! How can you go off and leave us behind? We're your family!"

"That's my family over there too," Amy said softly, "and they are willing to give their lives to save people that they don't even know. What kind of person would I be if I didn't do the same, if I didn't fight? I love you guys so much, and I've been protecting you every day of my life since I received that letter fourteen years ago, but it's time that I protect everyone else that I love too."

Amy took a deep breath as these words slipped from her lips. She had managed to hide this side of her life for so long that the feeling of freedom that washed over her felt foreign. She didn't have to sit on this stack of lies and secrets for any longer, and the relief she felt was something she didn't quite recognize but that she craved and relished.

"So, you're just going to leave?" Kate asked softly.

"I have to go," Amy said in earnest. "Right now. They need every person they can get, and I'm not about to let the people I care about go into a war without all the help they can get."

She paused for a moment, looking down and blinking as she mulled over her words in her head.

"Speaking of which," she murmured as she drew her wand once more.

Amy turned away from her friends as she drew her wand. She stopped, shutting her eyes and remembered what it was like to be sitting in that club just a few minutes ago, laughing and smiling and ignorant to the war awaiting her.

When she opened her eyes, she felt a rush of power surge through her chest, through her arm, and spew out from her wand into a cloud of silvery light which quickly condensed into the small form of a hare. The small critter sat on its haunches, fidgeting in the dimly lit alleyway. Its ears moved back and forth, listening to the thrum of the city life.

"The battle has started," Amy said simply, catching the attention of the Patronus which looked curiously at the witch. "Apparate to the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade immediately. Ask for Aberforth."

With a flourish of her wand, the hare went scampering off into the night, bouncing out of sight. Amy stowed her wand back into the pocket of her skirt, knowing that the Patronus would reach the other Order members, and when she turned to face her friends, the witch found them staring at the spot where the Patronus had been but moments ago, shock etched across their faces.

Amy looked at them in confusion.

"What is it?" she asked tentatively, glancing over her shoulder.

"Y-Y-You just did magic," Kate breathed out, her blue eyes wide and her fingers trembling. "You just made that thing appear out of thin air."

It took Amy a second to realize that her conjuring her Patronus was the first piece of magic her friends had ever seen, and the witch couldn't help but smile and laugh softly.

"Yeah," she said faintly. "I did."

Amy flinched suddenly as she felt the coin burn up in her hand again. She didn't look at it though, knowing exactly what would be engraved into the metal. Instead, she squeezed it tightly, slipping it into the folds of her skirt as her eyes flickered from one of her friend's face to the other.

"It's time for me to go," she said finally. "They need me and I can't stay here any longer. I need to go."

The finality of her words seemed to set her friends off. One moment, Amy was standing awkwardly in the middle of an empty alley and the next, she was engulfed in a flurry of arms and hair as Georgie, Michelle, and Kate embraced her tightly. Amy shut her eyes, willing away the stinging tears that were crawling their way up into her eyes and she gripped them tightly. She felt rather than heard their cries and she fought hard to retain her own.

This was not how she expected this night to go, but then again, this was not how she expected the last few years to go either.

After several minutes of clutching her friends close to her chest, Amy forced herself to pull away, and she put some distance between herself and her weepy friends. She wished desperately that this wasn't happening, praying that she had hit her head in the club and that this was all a figment of her imagination, but she knew that only reality could be this heartless.

"I'm sorry," she said, "but I really do have to go. I know you may not understand and you may never understand, but I need to go, right now."

They might not understand, but that wasn't going to stop her from doing what she knew to be right.

She could only hope that they would forgive her one day.

The witch took several steps back as the trio of Muggles clutched onto each other, watching her steps carefully and counting each one that put distance between them. She drew her wand and gripped it tightly in her hand, reveling in the feel of the dogwood against the palm of her hand.

Amy stopped as she was closing her eyes and looked her friends in the eye one last time.

"Don't tell my parents," she said suddenly, shocking her friends out of their silence. "Don't tell them that I left, not yet."

"Amy, we have to tell your parents about this," Michelle said softly through a tear-laden voice. "They need to know."

The witch smiled a bit.

"I know they do," she agreed, "but don't tell them just yet. I don't want them you worry. If I don't contact you by this time tomorrow, and you can tell them, because it'll mean… well…" She smiled faintly. "You'll know what it'll mean."

Amy watched as her words brought tears to her friends' eyes and Georgie wiped hastily at her face, trying to stop the flood of tears and Kate sniffled into her hands.

"Just give me twenty-four hours," Amy begged. "Twenty-four hours, that's all I'm asking for. Please."

Michelle nodded shakily as she clenched her fists.

"What should we tell them?" the small woman asked in a strained voice. She was clearly trying to hold herself together long enough to finish out this conversation. Amy could see how much strength it was taking her and she couldn't help but remember a time when this same girl hadn't even the strength to face the world or lift her head up to say good-bye to a friend leaving for school.

"You'll think of something," Amy replied with a quirky smile. "You're all pretty damn bright if I do say so myself."

"Well, you're certainly right about that," Georgie said grumpily as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Amy laughed as something stirred in the crevices of her memory, and her laughter startled her friends who were standing in the somber darkness.

"Of course I'm right," Amy said with a smirk and a nostalgic look in her eyes. "I'm a teacher."

She flashed them a bright smile, forcing herself to believe that she would see them all again, before turning on her heel and disappearing from the alleyway with a snap.

…..

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>Eh...hehehe... I know. I know. This was supposed to be the chapter where everything was happy and cutesy and blahblahblah BUT what kind of author would I be if I made this easy for you?

As a side note, I was planning on having this chapter start off as **Saturday, May 2nd, 1998 (Just after midnight)** but then I remembered that England is six hours ahead of Chicago and if I made it past midnight in Chicago then it would be morning in England and Amy would have missed out on the entire battle and that couldn't happen because I have so much planned for her (and the others... _nudgenudgehinthintwinkwinkisthatCharlieWeasley'snameIhear?_) so let's imagine that it's something like seven/seven-thirty when Amy's Galleon burns. That makes it about one in the morning Hogwarts time and while that may seem early for a Bachelorette party and I know I said they'd been out for a few hours, but let's imagine that they went out at five. They like to party long and hard.

Alright, now that that's over...

Happy Holidays!

WiseGirl


	78. Chapter 77

**AN:** Hello! And Happy New Year!

...

Well this is sort of awkward, isn't it?

Important note before we begin! I made a goof in this chapter which cannot be undone without re-writing the entire thing, so you're just going to have to deal with it. This goof is in relation to the sequence of events leading up to the battle. We all know how it goes with J.K. Rowling, but here's how it's going to with me (because I'm an idiot and I'm lazy and it's just easier this way):

1. The Golden Trio enters the school through the Room of Requirement and Harry does his thing in the Ravenclaw dormitories. Snape flees, and the heads of Houses start gathering up the students.

2. Harry goes to the Great Hall where we have that lovely scene of Pansy screaming to give Harry to L.V. All of the under-aged students leave, and the adults are left to start planning.

3. Harry goes to the Room of Requirement where we have the scene with the Weasleys and they all return to the Great Hall just in time for Kingsley to give out orders.

Hopefully that should clear things up, and I hope you all enjoy!

**Dedication: **To my dear friend, Lydia! Happy Belated Birthday! You, my dear, are simply the best.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing you recognize.

* * *

><p><em>beautiful things happen<br>in the dark_

_when the sun goes  
>to sleep<br>when the stars give  
>light kisses<br>when the moon  
>is a spotlight<br>_

_life stays beautiful  
>even when you<br>are covered  
>in darkness<em>

_-K.P.K._

* * *

><p>Colors swirled before Amy as she Apparated away, leaving her friends behind in that dank Chicago alleyway, their faces, which were laced with tears and concern, seared into her memory. She landed swiftly in the middle of the Hog's Head, her knees buckling slightly under her as she found herself being pushed from side to side. It took her a moment to gather her bearings and it took her a moment more for her to realize that she was back. That she was back in Hogsmeade, so incredibly close to Hogwarts and everything else that she held dear, and it took another moment for her to realize that the pub she was currently standing in was filled to the brim with shouting students, pushing and shoving in the chaos.<p>

No one seemed to notice the witch at first; they were all too wound up in the hustle and bustle to care about the familiar face standing in their presence. It wasn't until a student ran head-long into her, falling onto their backside, that they began to realize that this wasn't some random witch. As Amy leaned over the student, offering them a hand to help them up, the small girl – who Amy recognized to be a third year Hufflepuff – looked up at the witch, her mouth falling open as her eyes grew wide.

"Professor Wyman!" she stammered out as she was pulled to her feet. "You're back!"

The girl's words seem to resonate through the students around her as many of them stopped to stare at Amy who looked at them sheepishly and gave them a half-wave. Soon enough, cries of "Professor!" and "It's Wyman!" resounded through the pub.

And while Amy would have loved to simply sit there in that pub, nursing a Butterbeer – or maybe a Firewhiskey – as she listened to her students tell stories of the year she had missed, the witch knew she was needed elsewhere and she couldn't allow herself to become distracted by the young witches and wizards. Instead, Amy pushed her way through the crowd of students, searching for a mane of white hair that she knew belonged to the bar owner.

She stopped in her steps, standing on the tips of her toes as she peered over the sea of students. Finally, Amy spied his pearly white hair, surrounded by a swarm of teens who were talking to him all at once, without giving the wizened wizard a moment to respond or even think.

"Aberforth!" Amy cried over the students. "Aberforth!"

By some miracle, the wizard must have heard her cry over the buzz of the students as he turned to her, confusion evident on his face. It took him a moment to put a name to her face and once he had, Amy saw the confusion drain away and frustration take its place as he stormed towards her

"Wyman!" he roared as he pushed through the herd of students, steadily pushing his way towards her. "What in the name of Merlin are you doing here?"

He stumbled to a halt in front of her, glowering at the witch who couldn't help the slight smirk that crossed her face. She could already feel the adrenaline building up inside of her, and her fingers were itching to grasp her wand and get to work.

"You didn't really think I was going to sit at home while there was a battle going on, did you?" Amy asked teasingly, ignoring how the wizard's bright blue eyes narrowed into a glare.

"I thought you would be smart enough to stay away," he said gruffly. "You stayed away for most of the year."

Amy winced slightly but didn't allow the blow to sting for long as she smiled brightly at him.

"I guess I'm not as smart as you thought," she said lightly. Her next words, however, weren't as sweet and the force behind them was enough to get the wizard to listen to her. "So why don't you tell me how it is I'm getting into the castle."

He grumbled slightly, shuffling his feet indignantly as he obviously didn't want to put the witch in any more danger than she was already in. Reluctantly, however, he pointed towards a portrait of a young girl. Amy followed the direction of his finger, her gaze settling on the frame which encompassed the sweet girl.

"Tunnel's through there," he told her with a curt inflection. "It'll lead you straight to Hogwarts."

The words were barely out of his mouth before Amy was running towards the picture, pushing through the crowd of students who watched her motions with the utmost curiosity and concern. The witch hoisted herself up onto the mantle, carefully not to knock over the candles or catch her skirt in the flames. The girl in the frame smiled mysteriously at her, and Amy took note of the bright blue eyes that shown through the shadows of the portrait before tugging on the edge of the golden frame and pulling it open to reveal a dark and dewy corridor.

It reeked of something musty and old but rather than blanching at the stench, Amy couldn't help but think that it smelled just like Hogwarts and there was an excited swoop in the pit of her stomach as she realized that she was so incredibly close to being home.

She had just stepped into the stone corridor when a thought hit her, and she turned back suddenly to face Aberforth, who was gazing up at her in the doorway of the passageway.

"By the way," she said over the anxious chatter of her students as she held tightly to the slick walls of the cavern she was about to enter. "There might be a few more Americans popping in. Just send them on through!"

She smiled wickedly and gave him a wink, and he stared incredulously at her, anger creeping onto his face as he struggled to find an appropriate response.

"WYMAN!" he finally sputtered out in a roar as he was consumed by the bevy of teens who were bursting with questions. His cry fell on deaf ears, however, as Amy had already shut the portrait door with a faint snap and was currently racing down the tunnel with her hair flying behind her and the skirt of her flowered dress pressed against her legs.

The tunnel was steep and damp, lit only by the firelight of candles that were intersperse across the length of the tunnel, and Amy could feel herself sliding slightly as her steps pounded off the stone. But she didn't stop; she kept on running, even though her breath was coming in short rasps, but she didn't stop. She knew what awaited her on the end of the tunnel. She knew the pain that lay before her and she knew of the very real possibility of death that even she, a terrible Divination student, could foresee. But Amy also knew that behind that pain and reality of death was the very real possibility of returning home to those she loved and the idea of falling into the arms of one Charlie Weasley provided her with all the strength she needed to look past the pain and death and to keep barreling on down that slippery tunnel.

She didn't know how long she ran for, but it was long enough that she could feel her lungs tightening from lack of air before she sighted the glow of a single lantern, outlining the entrance of a door in the wall. She was almost there, just a few more yards. Amy pushed herself just a little harder, skidding to a halt in front of the worn, wooden door. She pressed her hands against the frame of the door, feeling the grain of the aged wood beneath her hands as she took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves which were firing at a rapid pace before she found the courage to push the door open.

Amy tumbled out, not expecting to find herself on yet another mantle. She managed to catch herself in the doorway of the corridor before she fell to the floor. She didn't look around to see where it was she had wound up before she jumped to the floor, the slight heels of her shoes clicking against the stone finish of the ground.

Letting out a breath of relief as she realized she hadn't broken any bones in her jump, Amy looked up, expecting to find herself in the Great Hall or Dumbledore's office. Instead, Amy found herself standing in the middle of a cavernous room with ceilings that reached seemingly to the sky and hammocks dangling from the rafters. It didn't look like any room she'd ever been in before while at Hogwarts, and she didn't recognize a single thing that was in the room.

Well, except for the few people that were scattered across the room. She definitely recognized them and she couldn't help the bolt of excitement that shot through her as she looked from one familiar face to the next.

"Hello," Amy said softly, still a tad out of breath. Her gaze settled on those she knew so incredibly well. "What's up?"

Those in the room stared at her, not quite comprehending what they were seeing and the witch couldn't help but give an awkward wave and smile. Her stare moved from one head of red to the next and then onto Remus and Harry who were standing off to the side.

Amy had apparently interrupted a reunion of sorts. Molly had her arms tightly wound around Percy Weasley, who was staring sheepishly towards the ground with his father's hand rested on his shoulder. Fred and George had identical grins on their faces, despite the severity of the situation, and they were standing next to Harry and Ginny, who looked as though she was seeking an escape from the room. Bill was standing beside Fleur, gripping her hand tightly in his.

They all looked incredibly surprised to see her there, albeit pleasantly surprised. It had been almost nine months since they had seen her, and for her to just magically pop out of a portrait, well, it was rather unexpected and Amy didn't blame them for not saying anything. She was still a bit puzzled to find herself back in the castle after such a long time.

Molly was the first to react to Amy's appearance. The red-headed witch released Percy's arm and came rushing towards Amy, her face scrunched together oddly. The younger witch almost took a step back as the mother came charging up to her, but she stopped as she saw the bright smile that spread across her face. At the last moment, Amy opened her arms as Molly pulled her into a tight embrace, which Amy quickly melted into.

Molly smelled like a mix of fresh linens and baked goods; she smelled like home.

"Oh Amy!" the mother cried, her voice thick with tears as she tightened her grip around the younger witch. "I'm so glad you're safe!"

Amy smiled faintly, squeezing this witch tightly as she patted her on the back.

"I've missed you, Molly," she said softly. Amy held her close for a moment longer before she pulled away. Her hazel eyes roamed over Molly's freckled face, taking in the newest wrinkles that were creased into her face and spotting the few grey hairs that had begun to sprout in her mane of red.

"Well, we've certainly missed you too, dearie," Molly said fondly, her brown eyes bright in the glow of a nearby candle. "But what on Earth are you doing here? I thought you were in Chicago with your parents."

"I was," Amy said quickly, "but I wasn't about to let you go through this all by yourself. I'm here to fight." She lifted her gaze from Molly's to eye Remus with a slight grin. "I got a message from a friend that 'Lightning had struck' and I didn't wait around long after that."

"Oh but I do wish you hadn't come," Molly said suddenly and earnestly, drawing the witch's attention back to her. Amy furrowed her brow in confusion and Molly quickly went on. "I have missed you dearly, we all have, but it's not safe for you to be here, for any of us really. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I'll be fine, Molly," Amy said sincerely, catching the older witch's eye so that she could see the sincerity in her words. "We all will be."

Amy leaned down to embrace the mother once more, and while she wished she could enjoy the comfort of Molly's hug for several more seconds, she knew that time was limited. She forced herself to pull back so that she could look over at the others who were watching the scene between Amy and Molly fondly. Amy's hazel eyes moved from face to face, familiarizing herself with the abundance of freckles and bright eyes that looked back at her.

"It's good to see all of you," she said earnestly. "I hope you've been keeping out of trouble."

Her words seemed to break the ice of shock that had fallen over the others, and all those gathered cracked a smile at the teasing look in her eyes.

The witch took this time to examine those gathered before her; Remus looked no more worse for the wear than he had when she had last seen him, and she couldn't help but think that fatherhood had done wonders for the wizard. Beside him, Harry stood awkwardly as though he felt out of place in the midst of the Weasley family – which was basically his family, so Amy wasn't entirely sure why on Earth he'd be feeling awkward – and she couldn't help the way her eyes roved over his face, taking in the scraggly half-beard he was sporting and the lanky, haggard appearance of his body. She didn't have much time to ponder what exactly he had been up to while she was away as her attention was drawn to Ginny, whose face looked a bit peaky and white, but Amy supposed that was only from the stress of the night.

The witch moved her gaze from Ginny to her older brother, Bill, who had turned himself so that he could talk quietly to his wife. The wounds he had obtained from the battle nearly a year ago were still scratched firmly across his face but they looked as though they had spent the last year under the careful touch of his wife. And as Amy turned her attention to this wife, she couldn't help but wonder how Fleur managed to keep herself so beautiful during the middle of the war and the witch figured she must have a really great moisturizer.

Amy's gaze skipped over Percy and Arthur, who were speaking in hushed tones, figuring that they were making up for lost time. Instead, she turned her attention to the Twins who were standing off to the side, dressed rather fabulously seeing as they were going into battle – then again Amy was wearing a dress and make-up, and her shoes did have heels, so who was she to say anything? – and when they felt her gaze settling on them, they turned to her in unison. The Twins broke out into large grins, a smile that Amy knew meant that they certainly had not been straying away from trouble, and Amy felt a slight ache in her heart because that look in their eyes and the quirk of their lips was so incredibly similar to Charlie's and she remembered just how boring the last nine months had been without the Twins cracking jokes and taunting her and –

Wait. Charlie. Charlie.

Amy's smile dimmed quickly as she surveyed the room, eagerly, searching for a head of red hair that would stand out above the rest – not because he was taller than the others, but because Amy would recognize his ginger mop in an instant – only to find that there wasn't a set of bright blue eyes and red hair accompanied with broad shoulders and muscled arms.

The witch felt her heart sink rapidly, practically to the soles of her feet, as she realized that the man she was looking for was nowhere to be seen. Immediately, terrible thoughts flurried through her mind and she shut her eyes quickly to stop her mind from wandering into the darkness of reality. She swallowed thickly, thinking the worst, as she looked back at those in the room.

No one seemed to notice the look of panic and sheer terror that had crossed over her face and she took a moment to compose herself.

"And, where are the others?" Amy asked in what she hoped was a steady voice, unwilling to show her true emotions. She was so close, so incredibly close to being with him again and yet they were still separated, after all this time.

Fate certainly seemed to have it out for the young couple.

"They're meeting in the Great Hall," Harry answered simply, choosing not to elaborate or go into detail. "McGonagall's organizing everything there."

Amy nodded once, although her question still hadn't really been answered but she dared not ask where her wizard was because she couldn't let the others know how terribly she had missed him – missed them all really.

"Right," she said as she began to map out a plan in her mind. "Well then, we'd best be headin – "

There was a muffled crash and a clang from the behind the witch, and Amy turned quickly and stared up at the portrait of the young girl that hung above the mantle of the empty and cold fireplace. She could hear the others moving up behind her, startled out of their homey cluster as they slowly drew their wands, clearly expecting the worst to come out from behind the portrait.

Everything was silent for a moment; an odd sort of silence that Amy had forgotten existed and yet it still settled over them, as those who had gathered in the unknown room waited with bated breath. There was no movement or sound of scuffling or anything really as they waited for some indication of what was to come.

Silence and then –

The portrait burst open and several figures tumbled out of the portrait and over the top of the mantle. They landed in a clump of legs and groans on the dusty ground before Amy's feet with a splat, the silence that had fallen over the room broken as they all laid there groaning and grumbling for several minutes.

It didn't take Amy long to realize who composed this bundle of limbs, and the second she had, she rolled her eyes and thrust her wand into the skirt of her dress before placing her hands on her hips. As the cluster of bodies continued to mutter and complain before her, Amy tapped her foot impatiently – although it was taking everything she had within her to hide the smile that was trying to bloom across her face – as she watched them try to untangle themselves to no avail.

"Nice of you to drop in," she said scathingly.

Thomas groaned from the bottom of the pack as he looked up at the witch with narrowed eyes.

"What level of hell did we drop into where they don't make passageways on ground level?" he moaned pitifully as he dragged himself out from the dog-pile.

"They could have at least put a trampoline in or a bouncy house," Mara mumbled as she got an elbow to the face.

"I'll be sure to put a notice into the Headmaster," Amy said as she offered her hands to Serena and Bridgette, heaving the witches off the floor. "I'm sure he'll get right to that after he finishes his work with You-Know-Who."

She took a step back and watched as the group of American witches and wizards dusted themselves off, grumbling all the while as they did so. Clearly, they had received her message and come immediately, just as she asked, and Amy couldn't help but admire the rag-tag band of friends and co-workers standing before her. She had spent months yelling at them and berating them for every little thing, and yet they still came to her aid the second she asked for it.

Perhaps she had underestimated them; perhaps they would all get through this in one piece. Maybe this evening would end better than they had all expected.

"Oh Merlin," Sam said suddenly as he straightened up and caught sight of the small crowd gathered behind Amy. "Gingers."

Or maybe not.

Amy's eyes widened as she stared at Sam as though he were a child. The man shuffled awkwardly when he caught her look.

"What?" he stage-whispered. "What did I say?"

"At least we know Dementors won't have an effect on them," Thomas muttered softly enough that – thank Merlin – the Weasleys didn't hear him.

Amy held up a hand, stopping anyone else from saying anything as she glared at them.

"No," she said as though to a bad dog who had taken a bathroom break on the living room carpet. "Inappropriate. No more speaking from any of you."

Blondie opened her mouth to protest, gesturing helplessly at the Twins who had started the whole thing but Amy shushed her. The witch knew what the blonde was getting at; she knew that, given the chance, Blondie would remind her that the rest of them weren't that bad and the American duo were just a bunch of idiots, but Amy would really rather not start a feud between the two countries. They were already in the midst of the largest Wizarding War of all time; they didn't need another war between America and England to top it off.

Amy waited a moment to ensure that none of the Americans would say anything before she turned back to the group behind her. She gave them a fluttering smile.

"Sorry about them," she said smoothly. "Americans, ya know? Let's get down to business, yeah?"

"Right," Remus said cautiously, eyeing the band of idiots behind Amy with serious concern. "McGonagall's prepping the castle from the Great Hall, so we'd all best head that way. We're going to need all the help we can get."

"Wait," Amy said before anyone could move. "What about Snape? I thought he was Headmaster. Where is he? And where are the others? The Carrows and Avery? Where are they? They don't seem like the type to sit back, sipping tea and eating biscuits while we storm the castle."

"We've taken care of the Carrows," Harry spoke up, running a weathered hand through his shaggy black hair. "They're tied up in the Ravenclaw dormitories."

"As for Snape," Ginny said, "he has, as Professor McGonagall so eloquently stated, done a bunk."

"He's gone?" Amy said, stunned at this piece of news. "He left? Just like that?"

"Just like that," Harry repeated. "And good riddance."

There were mutters of agreement from those gathered, and Amy couldn't help but be relieved at this news. Snape was, undeniably, a very powerful wizard and it was unfortunate that he had sided with Voldemort. They could have used him, now more than ever.

So, the Carrows were tied up and Snape had fled the castle, which only left…

"And what about Avery?" Amy asked, pleased that she was able to hide her quiver of fear behind a new ferocity. "Where is he?"

The group shared uneasy looks.

"He snuck away," Remus said eventually. "When he realized what was happening, he left the castle."

Amy felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her, but she gave a shaky nod in response. Knowing that he was still out there, that he could return at any given minute and unleash his cruel and brutal spells upon any unfortunate soul within the castle scared her. She knew his wrath – she had felt it, relentless and forceful – and she knew what it was that he was capable of, and somewhere in the back of her mind, Amy knew he would return.

And she also knew, somewhere lurking in the depths of her memories and fears, that when this battle was over and the score had been settled, only one of them – her or Avery – would immerge from the crumbling ruins that would be this beloved castle.

The witch was pulled from her thoughts as a fumbling and crash sounded from behind her. She whipped around, ready to draw her wand and battle off whatever fiend had tried to attack them, but instead of a faceless foe, Amy found herself staring at a pile of junk sprawled across the floor and all too innocent looking Eddie and Aaron standing behind it.

They grimaced and then smiled, shrugging in a nonchalant fashion.

Amy's eyes flashed and their smiles disappeared, slipping away from their faces like Stinksap. The two toed the ground uncertainly, acting like young children who had been accosted by their mother for misbehaving, which basically was what had happened.

Amy gave all of the Americans a look of warning before turning back to face the castle natives, and she could see the uncertainty in their eyes as they viewed those crowded behind the Charms professor. Remus couldn't help but eye the newcomers with hesitancy; it was unclear to him exactly what the rowdy bunch was doing there and Amy wished she could say something to ensure him, and the others for that matter, that they really weren't all that bad.

Alas, she couldn't find the words to do so and rather than giving the Americans time to embarrass her any more than they already had, Amy straightened her shoulders and drew her wand, raising her voice so that it rained over those in the room

"We should be heading down then, yes?" she asked, though the authoritative timbre in her voice made it clear to the others that it was more of a command than a suggestion.

"Let's go upstairs and fight," George agreed with a wicked grin, "or all the good Death Eaters'll be taken."

The others nodded in response and the crowd began to tromp out of the room, leaving behind Ginny, her parents, Remus, and Harry. The youngest witch had tried to hide herself amongst the mass of bodies and red hair but she was quickly spotted by Molly and Arthur who dragged her from the group. Ginny glared fiercely at them all, ready to unless her fiery anger, and Amy quickly scurried from the room, not wanting to be a part of that debacle in the slightest.

The witch exited the room last, leaving behind a feuding trio of redheads, an exasperated Remus who was desperately trying to ease the growing tensions, and an awkward Harry who was trying to escape from Ginny's pleading expressions.

Amy trailed after the others, allowing the Weasleys to lead the way, knowing that if she didn't keep a watchful eye on the group of Americans that they would get distracted and separated from the rest of the group and they'd either wind up in the bowels of the castle or they'd stumble upon one of the many hidden passageways that littered the school's corridors.

It was as she trailed after the others that Amy finally allowed herself a moment of solace and she took several deep breaths to compose herself. She'd been running on a high since she'd gotten the message in the club and it would do her no good to go into a battle with her nerves strung high and all over the place.

In these few moments she had to herself, Amy allowed her gaze to move away from the group before her and onto the stone walls, arches, and portraits that loomed around her.

It had been almost a year since she'd been in the castle and despite that small fact, the school looked exactly as it had the day she had arrive five years before. The walls were lined with elegant stone that curved and melded into graceful arches which shone despite the darkness of the war May night and the weight of the many burdens that weighed down upon the stone. Torches adorned the walls and provided warmth to the drafty halls. The shadows of the group were etched against the stone walls and they passed over portraits of witches and wizards from years gone by.

Speaking of the portraits, the oil-painted occupants were darting between frames and screeching about the impending danger that loomed over the castle. Carefully created features were contorted into a mix of fear and fury; fear for the castle and its living, breathing occupants and fury that anyone would dare – or even think – of attacking the castle, their gallery, their home.

As the group of wizards and witches drew closer to the Great Hall, descending down flights of stairs and rushing past countless shadows, Amy could hear the booming commotion that thundered through the stony hallways. Students were shouting over each other, their voices mingling and entwining into one deafening cacophony of noise. Individual voices rose and fell, creating a swell of desperate, terrified music.

The doors to the Great Hall were just before the group now; tall and intricate, concealing the chaos which resided within. Amy sped up so that she was just behind the other Americans, eager to enter the mess hall and hoping that this whole endeavor would soon be over.

The Weasleys leading the pack did not slow down as they approached the Great Hall, and they forcefully pushed their way through the heavy, wooden doors, not pausing or hesitating for a moment as they shoved their way into the fray of students and teachers. However, the Americans – for once – weren't as confident and they crowded into the door way of the grand hall, staring in wonder at the splendor before them.

Through the slew of students dressed in their nightwear and hastily knotted shoes and through the assortment of benches and tables that had been pushed aside amidst the hustle and bustle of it all, the floating, glittering candles still hung in the air, floating above the heads of those in the hall and casting a warm friendly glow over the young students, professors, and defenders.

McGonagall was at the head of the crowd, dishing out orders to the students and Amy could see Kingsley, Remus, and Arthur dividing the students into groups and leading them out into the grounds. The other professors – Sprout, Slughorn, Sinistra – were ushering students out into the corridors and up into the towers, the best advantage point the castle had. Amy saw Fred and George rush past her with a band of miscreants, no doubt to defend the secret passageways that only they knew of, and they winked at her as they did so.

It appeared as though the entire school had congregated in the Great Hall, and the Houses were mixed together, creating, for once, a unified body of students, and quite a large mass of students as well. Amy had forgotten just how many students went to Hogwarts and seeing them all there in that one room, practically spilling over the sides, brought the witch back to a time when the thing that concerned her most was what her next lesson plan would be.

And then the crowd broke, and all Amy could see was him.

Charlie.

He didn't see her at first, didn't notice her standing so close to him, didn't feel her stare pouring over him, didn't realize that she was there. And in that moment, she didn't care. Nothing mattered to her and nothing bothered her, because in that instant she was content to stand and stare at this wonderful creature before her.

He was standing in the midst of a crowd of students, directing them and calling orders over their heads. The students, to their credit, took his orders without complaint and they took off across the hall, following his directions with a curious fervor that Amy was not accustomed to seeing in her students, but she couldn't find it within herself to fuss over that because he was there and so was she and she couldn't breathe.

It had been just over nine months since Amy had last seen him, and she could feel her heart racing in her chest, pounding against her ribs and shoving her lungs to the side in their desperate attempt to control her emotions. The feelings that had lived inside Amy for the past months, the anger at him for making her leave, the loneliness she felt, but most of all, the love that burned inside of her every time that Charlie entered her mind, bubbled inside her, filling her with an amazing thrill that she hadn't felt since she had last stood, safe and sound, within Charlie's arms. And in that moment there was nothing Amy wanted more than to be back in his arms where she knew nothing could ever touch her.

Yet when she tried to move her feet, when she tried to break from the crowd and return to the love of her life, her shoes stuck to the ground as though they had been glued there, and the pockets of her dress grew heavy, holding her down as though they had been filled with weights. The witch could not will herself to move in the slightest and she felt like she had been cursed, but Amy knew that this was not an enchantment but the simple fact that she was scared; scared of the impending war, scared of death, scared that her friends and family would be hurt, scared that they would lose, scared that her students would live out the rest of their lives shadowed in the darkness of Lord Voldemort's control, scared that she would lose Charlie, scared of the feelings that brewed inside of her.

She hadn't imagined that it would feel this way. She hadn't expected the breathlessness or the paralysis that struck her. She had expected to see him, his tall and muscled form hovering above the rest, and she expected their eyes to meet and for smiles to blossom across their faces and she expected to run straight at him, crashing into him as her arms wound around his neck, pulling him impossibly close to her as his arms wrapped around her waist, her feet lifted off the ground. She expected to feel his lips pressed against hers and for that familiar warmth to wash over her, starting deep within her, somewhere near the core of her being and radiating outward, as she melted into the mere feel of him.

Instead, Amy couldn't find it within herself to break from her trance as Charlie's lips moved, saying words she couldn't hear as he pointed a group of students off in one direction. And then she felt her heart shudder and quake as Charlie's eyes roamed over the crowd that had gathered in the Great Hall, jumping from unknown students, to old teachers, to his family and friends, to the newly arrived Americans, still curiously crowded in the doorway, and finally to her where his stare stayed.

Amy could see it in his eye, the exact moment he realized that she was standing there in the doorway of the Great Hall. What little bit of breath she had flowing through her lungs went flying out of her as his gaze rove over her, taking in the dress that stuck to her legs and the shoes which were far too inappropriate for the situation at hand, and he settled his stare onto her face once more, his eyes snapping from one feature to the next as though he was seeing her face for the first time. His blazing blue eyes finally met hers and that was it.

Neither of them moved, neither of them dared to take a breath, afraid that a single exhalation would blow away the wispy apparition that had taken on the form of their love.

Amy could have stood there all night, staring wordlessly at this wondrous creature that was her Charlie, watching as his lips twisted and turned in an effort to create a word, any word, but his voice and his words failed him and all he could do was gap at her, mouthing silent exclamations. He didn't run towards her, he didn't break into a toothy grin and wink at her, he didn't rush over to her, eyes furious and shouting, demanding to know why she was being such a fool. He didn't grow angry and he didn't soften his voice in desperation, begging and pleading for her to leave like he had nine months before in her apartment. He didn't do anything.

She would have preferred it if he had, in all honesty. She would have preferred to see any sort of reaction on his part, anything to show her that he still cared for her – that he still loved her – and that the past months hadn't been filled with pain and loneliness only for her to return home to an indifferent Charlie, one who no longer saw her as intelligent and gorgeous and kind and selfless, but for what she really was.

She would have preferred that he did something rather than nothing because it was that lack of reaction that had the witch turning away so easily as her name sounded from behind her. With one finally look, one final appeal for a reaction, and yet another second of disappointing silence, Amy turned her attention to the expectant Americans.

"What should we do?" Tiffany asked softly, her voice miraculously sounding over the cacophony students.

"What?" Amy asked blankly, her mind foggy as her thoughts were still wrapped around a certain dragonologist.

"What do you want us to do?" Serena spoke up, speaking slowly so that Amy understood her.

"Umm, we need," Amy stammered, trying to draw her attention back to the situation at hand and away from her thoughts of a red-headed man. "We need to - umm."

"Amy," Thomas cut in, reaching out to grab the witch's shoulders tightly. He leveled himself so that he could look her in the eye. His gaze was filled with concern for her, but she could see the sternness that lingered in his eyes. "Take a breath and then tell us what it is we need to do."

Amy did as she was told, heaving in a shuddering breath. She shut her eyes briefly - just for a moment - reigning in her feelings so that when she opened her eyes, she was staring at Thomas with a newfound composure.

"You okay now?" he asked.

Amy nodded and took a step back so she could address the group as a whole.

"We need to defend the grounds," she said, loudly enough so that her voice carried over the group of Americans. "They can't get into the grounds unless the boundary enchantments go down. A group of you needs to head out there and reinforce the charms. Robyn, Aaron, and Jane, you're the best at defensive charms, so you should be the ones to do that."

The trio nodded in understanding when Amy turned her gaze onto them.

"As for the rest of you, you're going to need to defend the castle and it's students. They may be good students, but they're not used to live combat. They'll need our help. Be careful, be safe, and for the love of God, don't do anything stupid."

The group nodded and began to disperse with this dismissal, but Amy called them back. She smiled softly as her eyes ran from one person to the next as she couldn't help but admire them all.

"Thank you," she said after a moment's pause, "for putting up with me and my hissy fits. Thank you for your work and your willingness to help me, your willingness to help everyone here even though you don't know them. None of you had to do this, not a single one of you, and I don't think I'll ever truly understand why you would risk so much for them. You don't know anyone here, you don't know their stories, their names, or even their faces, and yet, you're still standing here ready to fight for them, for my family.

"Because that's what they are to me, they're my family and you are too, as cheesy as that is for me to say, so thank you for everything. And I know I keep saying thank you, but it's only because I know I'll never be able to say it enough. So again, thank you, and be careful, and remember," Amy paused here as she looked from peer to peer, from mentor to mentor, from friend to friend, from one family member to the next. "Constant vigilance."

And with that, they were gone, and Amy set up a small prayer to whatever and whoever may have been looking down on them all in that moment, asking that they be returned to her when this was over, devoid of wounds and scar and still bursting with the inappropriate - albeit endearing - American humor and fancy.

"Amy?"

It was Thomas again. The witch turned to look at him. He was standing in the middle of the doorway to the Great Hall, half-in and half-out, and she could see his brother, Sam, waiting for him in the murky depths of the darkened corridor.

"Yeah?" she asked softly.

"That's him, right?" Thomas asked. He looked past Amy's shoulder, and the witch turned her head ever so slightly so that she could see the fuzzy outline of Charlie in the corner of her eye. She saw him turn, ever so slightly towards her, and she looked back at Thomas immediately. "The tall red-head? That's him, isn't it?"

Amy nodded once and didn't say anything else.

"I'd like to meet him," Thomas said bluntly. "After all of this is done and taken care of. I'd like to meet him."

Amy's brow furrowed quizzically.

"Why on earth would you want to do that?" she asked.

Thomas grinned broadly.

"Gotta make sure he's good enough for our Amy," he said brightly. "I mean, he certainly is handsome, but looks aren't everything, ya know?"

Amy laughed, surprised that she was capable of making such a noise with all the turmoil going on around her. Thomas, however, grinned even more widely at the sound; it seemed as though he wasn't bothered in the slightest about what was going on around him.

"That a girl," he quipped. "There's that killer smile I've been looking for."

Amy rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" she asked, looking pointedly behind him at his twin before back at him.

"Ah, that I do," Thomas said with a shrug. "Take care of yourself, Amy."

"You too, Tommy."

Thomas glared at the nickname but didn't say anything. He disappeared from the doorway, and Amy was left standing in the midst of her students, all of whom were preparing for battle. She stared at the doorway for a moment more, hoping against all odds that Thomas, and Samuel, and all the others would make it out of this endeavor unscathed, and then she turned to look over her shoulder at Charlie, who was still standing in the middle of the hall, staring at her with a clenched jaw and bright eyes.

Amy took a step forward, towards the wizard, opening her mouth to call out to him; she was ready to shout out to him, to yell at him, to apologize, to proclaim her undying love.

And then a monstrous quake shook the castle and dust showered down upon them, and when Amy turned around to look through the doors of the Great Hall, out onto the grounds just beyond the corridor, she saw the bright flashes of light and the sparks of the crumbling defensive enchantments, and she knew.

The battle had begun.

* * *

><p><strong>AN<strong>: Dun dun dun.

So? How'd it go? Please, let me know!

I hope my little timeline in the beginning helped clear things up. Basically, what you need to know is that the students have been removed from the castle _before_ the Weasley reunion in the R.o.R. and that when the gang returns to the Great Hall, they return in time for orders to be dished out by Kingsley.

Also, I hope you guys are mad at me, because I am. I wasn't too sure what I was doing with the Chamy reunion and I feel like it's almost OOC, but at the same time, I feel that both Amy and Charlie have the tendency to freeze up at times and there are times where they're not really sure what they can/should do, and I think this is one of those times. Clearly, Amy is thrilled beyond belief to see Charlie again but she also recognizes that it's not the most ideal situation and that it has been nine months and a whole lot can happen in nine months. I think they're both just a little unsure of themselves at the moment, and I hope to Merlin they figure it out, and _soon_. They could both be dead by the time the night is over! But what kind of heartless author would do that?

...

Oh, right.

Me.

XD

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	79. Chapter 78

**AN: **Oh... heeeey there. It's been awhile, huh? Something like..uh... five months?

...

...

_*hangs head embarrassingly*_

Well, aren't I a terribly person? I really am sorry about all of that, and I'm sure if I tried (or if you guys cared) I could come up with a list of excuses, and it would just be a lot of school, school, school, school. I don't have a social life (not really) and all my relationships are purely fictional (it's incredibly sad the number of fictional men I'm in love with... I might just have to make a list of them and post it on my author page... look for that... it's embarrassing. You'll get a good laugh out of it). Anyway, I hope the last few months have been good to you, and I hope you enjoy the chapter! Again, sorry for the wait, and trust me, I know just how much I suck right now.

**Dedication: **To my followers and reviewers. Thank you for sticking with me even after my little hiatus. I appreciate you all beyond belief and thanks for all the support and encouragement!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

* * *

><p><em>We're all going to die.<br>__All of us. What a circus!  
>That alone should make<br>us love each other  
>but it doesn't.<br>We are terrorized and  
>flattened by trivialities.<br>We are eaten up by  
><em>_nothing._

-Charles Bukowski

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><p>Growing up, Amy had heard war stories from her father. He had joined the military during his youth and had fought actively during the Vietnam War. As a medic, he saw firsthand the brutalities of war–he knew of the blood and the gore and the loss and the complete and utter destruction of the hellish act–and when his children were old enough, he told them these stories. Not to scare them–never to scare them–but to remind them that the world was a dark and cruel place. It was unforgiving and unyielding and to see a war before one's very eyes was the worst thing he could ever imagine.<p>

It was also something that he never expected or imagined his own children would ever have to experience.

But, as always, Amy didn't quite fit into her parents' expectations.

She played in mud as a child rather than with dolls, and she preferred jeans and sweaters to dresses and heels, and she was quirky rather than cutesy, and she was a witch. Instead of going to middle school and high school, she went to a school for witches in a small town miles away from her home, and instead of obsessing over clothing magazines and teen heart-throbs, she obsessed over the details of her Charms and Transfiguration essays, poring over books of herbs and ingredients. And when she was finally old enough, she went off to an island thousands of miles away and she joined an organization that put her life on the line every day.

The witch even went off to war.

She wasn't what her parents expected or imagined their youngest daughter to be, and she didn't always do what they expected or imagined their youngest daughter would do.

But maybe she was exactly what the world expected her to be.

Because when she was confronted by a shattering barrier and an onslaught of foes, Amy didn't run and hide as expected.

Well…she did run, but not away from the fight, never away from a fight. Instead she ran towards it.

Well…not directly towards it at first. The castle's invaders were being held at bay for now, and the castle's defenders were using that to their advantage. Before they dove into the battle, they would need to prepare the castle for the attack, because after all, for every good offense there had to be a good defense.

So upon Kingsley's orders, Amy left the Great Hall – leaving Charlie and the others behind to do their own bidding – and she led a group of exemplary Charms students to the upper floors of the castle. From there, the professor and her students worked to protect the castle boundaries. They cast spells from the open windows, working together to ensure that their defenses were strong enough to fend off the Death Eaters – even if they only stood for a little while.

Behind them, the hallways began to fill with students and other allies. Everyone rushed around, trying to set up their own defenses against the approaching intruders. Occasionally, Amy would catch sight of a group of students running past – she could have sworn that she had seen Neville Longbottom running past with an armful of Mandrakes, but she could have been mistaken – and her heart would always skip a beat or two when she'd see a head of bright red hair sprint by in the corner of her eye. She couldn't let herself get distracted, however, and she forced herself to focus on protecting the grounds, using every protection spell she had in her arsenal.

From her perch in one of the windows, Amy watched as more and more shadowed figures bloomed from the darkness, but she was having trouble discerning who was friend and who was foe in the midst of the flashing lights. In the glow of the castle's light, Amy watched as groups of the castle's defenders also streamed out onto the dark grounds, their wands aloft and ready to fight, and in the flashing of the spells and curses, Amy watched as one by one, shadowed forms began to fall.

The witch's heart clenched tightly at each instance, knowing that in all likelihood, one of those fallen shadows was someone she knew, someone she taught, someone she loved. Watching these shadows fall made her want to take all of her students and send them away – send them somewhere safe – but she knew that they were there for a reason, and it was the same reason as hers: they wanted to fight and they were willing to give up everything they had – including their lives – to ensure that they won.

So instead of allowing her maternal instincts to overwhelm her, the witch forced herself to pay attention to the task at hand. Alas, there are really only so many defense spells one can cast on a broken fortress, and it wasn't long before Amy and her group of students had exhausted the ones that they knew, or at least all of the ones that would work at long range.

"Professor!" one of the students called out, drawing the witch's attention away from the castle's boundaries. "What should we do? We don't know what else to do!"The student sounded desperate, and it was then that Amy remembered that while they were on a battlefield, these kids before her were still just kids, eighteen at most.

Amy sighed and looked out the window again at the battle converging on the castle grounds before turning back to her students, who were still dressed in their pajamas and sporting some pretty mussed-up hair.

"Take cover," Amy said after a moment's thought. "Find somewhere to take cover and watch each other's backs. Only fight if you have to, and if you have to, you fight to survive. You fight to live, alright?"

She waited for her students to nod in affirmation, though they all looked hesitant to do so. Amy's gaze moved over them, taking in each of their expressions.

"Alright, now go!" Amy said after a moment, waving them off with her hands. "Go!"

Amy stayed by the window, watching as the group took off down the corridor, their wands in their hands, and she prayed that she would see them all again when the night was over, safe and unharmed, at least relatively.

Knowing that there was little more that she could do for the battle on the upper levels of the castle, Amy quickly began her descent back towards the Main Hall. She was sure there would be others waiting down there as well, preparing themselves for the war at hand, and as she grew closer to the first floor, she noticed that the halls were flooded with students and adults alike. In all of the chaos, the witch found herself up on the third floor, just outside of the Charms classroom–_her_ classroom, although it hadn't been her classroom for some time.

It had, after all, been Avery's for the past year, and that thought alone was enough to make Amy sick to her stomach. Despite that and despite the fact that she was about to enter into the battle, Amy felt a sense of comfort and relief wash over her as she took in the corridor that had housed her safe haven. Because that's what her classroom had been to her, and to her students: a safe have. And for a monster like Avery to turn it into a room for Dark magic and torture infuriated Amy beyond belief. She would stop at nothing to reclaim that classroom as her own and return it to its former glory. And the only way to do that was to fight and to win.

It was as she came to this conclusion that Amy caught a glimpse of bright pink hair from the corner of her eye. Her heart skipped a beat and dread filled her up at the sight, and immediately, Amy spun around, seeking out that head of vivacious color in the midst of the crowd around her. When she saw it again, finally, moving quickly in the opposite direction, the witch began to weave in and out of the others, tracking that bright head of hair through the crowd.

"Tonks!" Amy cried out above the ruckus and the roar, as she edged her way along the corridor. "Tonks, wait!"

The pink-haired witch stopped in her tracks, whirling around as she searched for the source of the cry. Her eyes were wide and bright as she glanced over the crowd, and when her sights finally landed on Amy, who was still barreling through the horde of defenders, she gave a small smile of relief.

"Amy!" she called back. The witches surged towards each other, colliding in a violent embrace. "You made it! You're here!" The Metamorphagus cried into her ear.

Amy pulled away and despite the severity of the situation, Amy smiled dazzlingly.

"Of course I'm here, Tonks," she said. "I got the message." Tonks cocked her head curiously, and Amy, in response, reached inside the pocket of her dress and withdrew the enchanted Galleon. It was still burning slightly, and she held it in the palm of her hand so that the light could glisten off of it. "You told me to keep it on me and I'm glad that I did."

Tonks smiled slightly but Amy could tell that the witch wasn't really listening as her attention was focused on the crowd around the duo. Curiously, Amy replaced the coin in her pocket for safe keeping, looking around the crowd herself.

"Is it just you who came or are there others?" the Metamorphagus asked, peering around to see if there were any friendly faces in the crowd. Amy laughed a little, drawing Tonks' attention back to her for a moment.

"Oh there are others," Amy assured her, thinking of her feisty band of Americans. "I brought along my own little army."

"That's good, that's good," Tonks said, her words turning into murmurs as her attention was pulled away from her American friend once more. Amy's brow furrowed as she watched her friend glance over the crowd around her. She appeared to be looking for something or someone, but Amy couldn't even begin to determine what or who. More than that, if Tonks and Remus were both here in the castle, then who was watching…?

"Tonks," Amy said suddenly, reaching out to grasp the witch's wrist desperately. "What are you doing here? You should be home with Teddy!"

Tonks looked up at the mention of her baby boy, shaking her head immediately and furiously. "I have to find Remus right now." She reached out and grabbed Amy's arms in a death-like grip, pulling her close so that the other witch could hear her voice over the cacophony around them. "Harry said that he was leading a group of students around. Have you seen him?"

Amy bit her lip. She wished she could tell her that Remus was fine, that he would be fine, and that she should go home and wait for him there. That she knew he would be fine, even if she didn't, because she knew that nothing would stop Tonks from finding her husband on the battle field, but she also knew that she wanted to do nothing more than order her friend to return home at once, to return to her baby boy–to return to Amy's godson.

And so she hesitated, trying to find the best way to phrase her words, but she must have hesitated a moment too long. Tonks noticed how unwilling the American's was to answer her question and the Metamorphagus' expression immediately changed. She was no longer smiling but instead she was wearing a mask of a woman who had been judged too many times before and was clearly tired of it all.

"Tonks–"

"Teddy will be fine," the Metamorphagus broke in. "My mom will watch him. Remus, on the other hand, has no one out there watching him. He needs someone out there–someone else on his side–and it would really help if you just told me where he was."

When Amy still hesitated, Tonks rolled her eyes in a sudden and rather uncharacteristic display of anger and frustration.

"It's that or I can just go off and find him myself, probably get myself killed, and leave Teddy all alone. It's up to you."

"That's not fair," Amy said quietly, her eyes watering slightly. "You can't place this on me."

"But I can and I will," Tonks shot back. Her face lit up with fury and Amy could see in the depths of fiery eyes that she was not bluffing, and that Tonks would never forgive her now if anything were to happen to the woman's husband (although Amy would never forgive herself if anything happened to Tonks).

"He was leading a group of students out into the grounds," she said softly, reluctantly, still desperate to make sure that Tonks would return to her son, safe and unscathed. Tonks, however, didn't seem to be thinking of herself in that moment – though were any of them really? – and she smiled in relief as these words slipped from Amy's lips.

"Thank you, thank you," she breathed. Tonks reached out and pulled Amy into another hug, squeezing her tightly. Amy returned the hug, embracing her friend with the same ferocity. They pulled away after a moment and they gave each other small smiles. "See you after?"

Amy didn't even have time to respond before the pink haired witch had scampered off into the mass, and her whispered, "See you then," was lost to the ruckus around her. She didn't, however, have time to worry about Tonks or the other witch's husband because from the grounds just outside the windows, there was a sudden crash, followed by a loud explosion which shook the foundation of the castle.

Students screamed around her, clutching onto each other as the castle continued to shake and dust sprinkled down around them. Amy stumbled a bit, catching herself on a nearby window sill. All around her, the walls, floor, and ceiling shook around her in a dizzying formation. When the shock finally faded away, Amy dared to poke her head out into the sweet May air and watch in horror as a great fire bloomed out of the darkness, consuming and overwhelming the Quidditch pitch.

Amy finally forced herself to tear her gaze away from the fire which was slowly but surely licking its way up the wooden bleachers and she instead began to observe the battle taking place upon the grounds below her. Spotted across the fresh, green grasses were the shadows of figures, dueling their way from one end of the castle grounds to the other. Periodically, one of the shadows would fall and lie motionless across the ground, never to move again, and Amy found herself praying once more to whatever higher being existed that they weren't the forms of one of her friends or family members.

As she watched, more figures began to appear from the shadows of the forest's edge, their wands raised and curses spilling easily from their lips. More of them flooded onto the grounds, and Amy could see the line of the school's defenders begin to fall. Realizing that there was not much that she could do to help in that crowded Charms hallway, but so much that she could do to help those outside on the castle grounds, Amy took off at a sprint, her skirt twisting between her legs and her arms pumping at her sides as she raced towards the main staircase.

Her hair was tangled and sweat lined the edge of her hair as she raced down the marble stairs, hopping down a few of them with each step that she took. She reached the entrance hall in record time, her heart pounding violently against her rib cage, but she could not spare a second for a breather. She was needed outside and she couldn't stop going – she _wouldn't_ stop going – until her heart gave out and her breathing stopped. There would be time to breathe later, when all this was done, and it would never be done if she didn't give it her all – even if her all meant giving her life as well.

She burst out of the school and onto the grounds of the castle. Cool, spring air bit at Amy from every direction, and the witch's blood chilled when she realized that in the darkness cast by the cloudy sky and the looming shadow of the castle, she was having difficulty discerning friend from foe in the mass of duelers.

Amy stood in the shadows of the castle, her chest heaving madly as she looked upon the battle before her. Knowing that she couldn't just sit idly by while the rest of them fought, Amy jumped into the battle.

From the light of the curses being cast around her and the light from fire which was still consuming the Quidditch Pitch, Amy was finally able to distinguish the witches and wizards from friend and foe. With that accomplished, she found herself being pulled into a duel with a witch. Amy recognized the woman from wanted posters from an earlier break-out, but she could not put a name to the face.

Amy also recognized that knowing the witch's name would not stop them from battling and it would not stop either of them from killing the other. So she pushed forward, using her wand as the deadly weapon that it was, to push the other witch back and away from the castle's walls.

Unfortunately, the witch was just as willing to put up a fight as Amy was, and the Charms teacher found herself locked in a duel which she was slowly, but surely, beginning to lose. As much as she tried to push the Death Eater away from the castle walls, Amy found that she was being pushed closer and closer to the entrance way.

And to make matters worse? Her arms were beginning to grow tired and her reflexes were slowing down bit by bit.

The other witch seemed to notice that Amy was beginning to slow down, and she used Amy's weakness to her advantage, sending a vicious curse towards Amy's stomach. The curse hit its target, and Amy bent over, clutching her stomach tightly in agonizing pain. With her eyes off her foe, the dark witch raised her wand, ready to strike Amy down, and Amy shut her eyes in hopeless anticipation, wishing desperately that she had said something – _anything_ – to Charlie when she had seen him, wishing that she had told him she loved him, that she always would, and that she –

"_Stupify!_"

A jet of bright light shot over Amy's head, striking her opponent in the chest and sending the dark witch sprawling against the green grass. Amy lurched up and around to see who had come to her rescue and was pleasantly surprised to see Bridgette standing behind her proudly, her red blonde curls lit up in the glow of the Quidditch Pitch fire.

"Bridgette," Amy gasped. "You just, I mean, you – "

"I know, I know," the witch smirked. "I'm a badass."

Amy let out a sudden and shocked laughed, and she would have probably continued to laugh that same silly, shocked laugh, if she hadn't remembered that she was in the middle of a battlefield. It seemed to hit Bridgette at the same time, because their smiles both slipped away like Stinksap and they swallowed in sync.

"Ready for this?" Amy asked, trying to hide the tremor in her voice.

Bridgette gave her a falsely bright smile.

"Sweetie, I was born ready."

Together, the witches dove into the battle, sticking close to each other and making sure that they always had their backs covered. They worked efficiently, playing off each other and feed off each other's energy. After living together and studying together and fighting together for seven years, they knew each other's weaknesses and strengths and together they were able to clear a path through the mass of foes, driving them back away from the castle. Together they dueled against these caped foes, using all of the magical skill that they possessed to clear a path through the horde of foes.

Things were starting to look up, even if it was just for a moment, and the two witches were just starting to get into the groove of it all when a scream echoed through the grounds suddenly, drawing everyone's attention away from their respectful duels. Bridgette and Amy looked up, searching for the source of the noise. They stood together, back-to-back, watching in horror as massive forms began to rise up from the shadows. It took the two a moment to place these massive forms, not because they didn't know what they were but because the two witches had never expected to one in their lives.

"Holy shit…" Bridgette said loudly and in awe, craning her neck up to watch these newcomers tromp onto the castle grounds.

Giants had entered the battle and from what Amy could see, they weren't exactly taking sides and they didn't seem to care who they crushed beneath their massive feet. Anyone who got in their way was a foe, and they were not hesitant in the slightest to bash people away from them and into castle walls or trees. Those who were out on the grounds immediately began to scatter, trying to find a safe route away from the giants' wrath.

Amy immediately grabbed Bridgette's wrist and began to drag the other witch away from the oncoming giants. Bridgette, however, was too engrossed by the giants and wasn't paying attention to where she was going. With Amy pulling her along on uneven ground and duels still going on all around them, Bridgette couldn't help but stumble over her own feet. She hit the ground, face-first, letting out a loud groan. Amy turned immediately and she turned back to help her friend to her feet.

Before Amy could even take two steps, one of the giants came barreling down on the witches, his club swinging and his feet smashing. Everything seemed to slow down, and Amy watched in absolute horror as the giant's club swung out wildly, colliding with the back of Bridgette's head and sending the witch rolling across the grass where she lay motionless, her red hair shining in the moonlight.

"BRIDGETTE!" Amy screamed desperately, tears welling up in her eyes when the witch didn't respond or even move. She scrambled out of the way as the giants continued to trample the grass and those on the ground.

Falling to her knees besides her fallen friend, Amy carefully drew her friend into her arms, turning her so that she could see her face in the glow of the moon and the flash of the duels. Bridgette was pale, so incredibly pale, and her freckles stood out like neon signs tattooed against her flesh. Her eyes were open, still glazed over in a mix of fear and awe, but the spark that had burned brightly behind her blue irises had died away. Shaking, Amy ran a hand over Bridgette's red curls, and when she pulled away, the red came with her.

Choking back a sob, Amy carefully lowered Bridgette's body back onto the green grass. She gripped her fallen friend's freckled hand desperately and pressed a kiss to her fingers.

"I'm sorry," she gasped. "I am so_ fucking_ sorry."

Still trying to hold back the onslaught of tears, Amy pulled away, folding Bridgette's hand over her chest. She struggled to get back onto her feet, and once she had, she found herself wishing that it was her lying there, sprawled across the grass, rather than dear, sweet Bridgette who had done nothing more than follow her friend and confidante into battle.

Looking up with watery eyes, Amy watched the battle rage on around her, no one noticing the crying professor or the red-haired woman at her feet.

In all of the confusion and in all of her despair, Amy somehow found herself being pushed further and further away from the walls of the castle and closer to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. And in the consuming darkness of it all, _they_ appeared from the woods; dark, looming shadows that swarmed and crept their way onto the grounds of the castle. The sight of these monsters would send most grown men screaming and running, but of course, in the darkness of the night and with all of the flashing lights and the screaming and the bustling back and forth and all of the death, no one took notice of the monsters' arrival until it was far too late and they were already upon them all.

In her depressed daze and with her vision so bleary from all of the tears, it wasn't until she felt the prickly hairs of the spider's leg wrap painfully around her ankle that Amy realized that she had much more to worry about than the Death Eaters or the giants before her on the castle grounds or even her friend's death.

The witch barely had enough time to let out a loud, piercing scream before her feet were pulled out from under her. Amy hit the grassy ground face first with a resounding oomph as the air went rushing out of her lungs, and she could only take short, sharp gasps of breath. Her dress was pressed against the dirty ground and Amy could feel the sharp twigs and roots of nearby trees digging into her tender skin.

The witch barely had enough time to draw in half of a breath before she felt herself being dragged backwards into the Forbidden Forest. Her eyes still brimming with tears, Amy began to thrash wildly, desperate to escape the clutches of her eight-legged foe.

'_Damn you, Hagrid,_' Amy thought venomously as she was pulled deeper into the darkness. '_I had heard the rumors but I didn't think you were stupid enough to actually have that blasted spider-pet._'

No amount of cursing she did, however, would stop the disastrous predicament that the witch now found herself in. She continued to be dragged along by her predator, the foliage of the forest digging into her skin, tearing at her flesh and leaving their mark upon her body. She stretched out her hands, still coated in Bridgette's blood, and she clawed at the dirt and the rocks beneath her as she was dragged along. But there was nothing she could do, no way for her to fight back, and even with her wand in hand, she was useless to attack when she couldn't even face the spider she had fallen victim to.

And so, Amy was pulled further and further into the depths of the forest, tears streaming from her eyes, until finally she slid to a halt. In the darkness of the forest, the spider released her from its prickled grip, and in a mad scramble for her life, Amy flipped herself onto her back. Her arms were outstretched above her head as she stared into the fanged face of death. She made to kick at it, but the spider simply pulled back, its many eyes watching her carefully and glistening in the glow of the moon.

Amy's stomach clenched tightly and she felt her throat close as she stared up into the eyes of this monster. She was terrified of normal sized spiders and now to be face with this monstrosity, the witch could feel her limbs growing heavy and her body began to shake as her fear settled in around her.

And then, the spider lunged at her, and Amy closed her eyes, squeezing them shut tightly so she wouldn't have to watch her impending death and she wondered desperately if her death would be painless or not and if Bridgette had suffered very much and Amy prayed that it hadn't hurt at all, that she was just alive one minute and dead the next and –

Amy's hand clasped around the cool wood of a wand–her wand–and the witch's damp eyes flew open as her hand shot forward. The spell tumbled from her lips in a hurried mass of words, but luckily–thankfully–they had the desired effect.

"_Arabia Exumai_!"

The massive spider was thrown backward. It collided with a nearby tree and crumbled into a mess of hairy limbs. Curling in on itself, it lay at the base of the tree's twisted and bent roots and in the stillness of the forest, it appeared as though the defeated foe was nothing more than part of the tree's roots and it became nothing more than a (worst) memory to the witch.

Falling onto her back, Amy pressed the back of her hand to her mouth as tears sprung up in her eyes and sobs racked her body. She rolled onto her side, her face pressed against the dirt floor of the forest, and she sobbed with wild abandon into the ground, not even trying to fend off the sobs and the tears anymore.

She thought she had been prepared for it all. Her father had told her the stories and she thought she knew what she would see – she knew what her father had seen and what other veterans had seen – and she thought she was ready for it all.

She _thought_…

She hadn't thought it would be like this. Seeing the bodies of her students and her friends crumble around her was not something she could ever imagine. It was not something she had ever _wanted_ to imagine, and now it was something that she would never be able to forget, no matter how much she tried. The images of these slain friends and allies would sear themselves into her memory, and she knew...

She knew that they would remain there for the rest of her life, returning every so often in the form of a nightmare–one so horrible that it would rip her from her sleep and leave her crying and panting for relief–but she continued to fight, she had to keep fighting.

She had to fight for her students, and her co-worker, and her friends, and her family.

She had to fight for those still living and for those who had died.

She had to fight for Bridgette, who had trusted Amy and believed in her from day one. She had to fight for Bridgette because without her, Amy would be dead.

_If it weren't for Amy then Bridgette would still be alive._

And Amy was not going to let her death go to waste. Not now, not ever.

With these thoughts still brewing and simmering violently in her mind, Amy forced herself to sit up and stop crying. She took several deep breaths, and she wiped the tears and snot off of her face, forcing herself to think about the blood – _Bridgette's blood_ – that she must have smeared across her skin.

Looking down at her now muddy dress, the witch catalogued the various scratches and gashes that adorned her legs. Twigs and leaves were pressed against her skin–and there were probably some woven into her hair as well for that matter–and she spent a few minutes plucking and peeling the leafy debris away from her skin. Amy couldn't believe that only a few hours earlier, she and her Muggle friends had been all dolled up for a party. Now the witch looked as though she hadn't showered in weeks.

Pressing her palm to one wound which was oozing blood pretty profusely, Amy dragged herself–to her tired feet. She stared through trees at the duels that were still being fiercely fought on the grounds before her, watching the colors of their spells–both dark and light–blossom and bloom in the midnight sky. Knowing that she couldn't wait around out there anymore, Amy took off at a slight jog, not even sparing a glance back at her eight-legged foe.

Diving head first onto the battle grounds, Amy forced herself to think about anything _but_ Bridgette, and when she finally broke through the line of trees, Amy found herself dodging spells and stepping over prone forms–which inevitably sent a horrible pang through the witch. She could see from her position by the trees that castle's defense had broken and Death Eaters were making their way past the stone walls of the castle.

If enough of the Death Eaters managed to get inside, all of the castle's defenses would fail, and victory would be lost. The battle was no longer out here on the grassy grounds of Hogwarts, but inside the walls of the school, and if Amy wanted to be of any help at all, then she would need to join that battle immediately. Clenching her jaw and gripping her wand tightly, Amy continued running through the mass of duelers on the grass, making her way up the rolling hills of the grounds and to the grand castle.

Except… it really wasn't so grand anymore.

Dust sprinkled the lawn just outside the castle walls, and Amy could see several instances of crumbling walls. Stones which had been blasted from the walls because of an ill-fired curse lay strewn around her feet and the witch could see the flashing lights from the many duels occurring inside the castle's halls. The curses illuminated the empty windows, sending spurts of colors onto the grassy lawn. Amy didn't stay long to watch the color show as she darted back into the castle.

Amy struggled through the duelers, dodging spells and curses that flew overhead. The castle doors were just within her sights, and Amy was surprised that her heart hadn't exploded with all the adrenaline and blood pumping through it, but she pushed that thought out of her mind, urging herself forward past the stone entrance and into the vast foyer before the Great Hall.

Standing in the middle of the main entrance, Amy spun on her heel, looking over the heads and ducking as curses were hurled at her in the hopes that she would spot someone–anyone really– that she knew, and someone that she could aid. All the witch saw, however, were the cloaked shoulders of Death Eaters brutally battling against young students. The castle was filled with students and adults alike, all of them fighting for the upper hand in this battle of good and bad, and Amy wasn't going to stand by and watch. She darted forward to join in with one of the duels, just as a sudden shudder coursed through the school.

For the second time that night, the witch stopped to brace herself, feeling the tremors of the castle race up her weary legs. Looking up, Amy saw a crack begin to form deliberately in the ceiling of the entrance and dust slowly began to rain down on her before the ceiling cracked open in a deluge of rubble. As dust and debris began to cascade down around her, Amy lunged out of the way, sprawling across the now dirty ground to avoid being hit. She landed safely on the floor, pressed against the wall and she allowed herself a breath of relief at her apparent safety.

Her reprieve was broken as the wall to her left exploded in a burst of fiery light, and Amy threw up her hands to protect herself from the searing flames, losing her wand in the chaos.

All around her, Amy could hear panicked screaming from students and their allies, and Amy got to her knees, knowing she had to get up and away from the fire if she wanted to help any of them in the slightest. She would also need to find her wand while she was at it…

Coughing from the smoke, the witch began to crawl desperately away from the flames that began to lash out from the burning wall, licking their way up tapestries which adorned the wall, and all the while, the witch groped the ground beneath her, frantically searching for her wand. Panic began to surge within her veins, and she was just beginning to think that it had been consumed by the fire when her hand brushed against smooth wood. Her fingers tightened around the dogwood handle as she drew the wand towards her, and the feeling of panic begin to ebb away.

Now that she was clear of the fire–though she was still hacking up smoke–Amy turned around towards the ceiling collapse, her hand still latched around her wand. Making as though to push herself off the ground and onto her feet, Amy scrambled around on her knees but she was unable to get any further.

A foot came crashing down on her abdomen, sending the witch back onto the ground. Dust rose up around her as all the air in her lungs left her in with a loud and resounding oomph, and as she struggled to regain her breath, Amy felt the foot press hard against her stomach, the soles of the boot digging forcefully into her skin. Still grappling for air, Amy followed the line of the leg up…up…up to a torso and then a chest and then she was staring into the face of a certain Death Eater who she had seen one too many times before.

"Avery," Amy snarled, "Guess I shouldn't be too surprised to see you here, should I?" She used her wand-less hand to shove at his booted foot, trying to force it off her but to no avail. He wasn't budging at all, and so Amy settled for digging her nails into the boot, clenching down in a vain attempt to hurt the Dark wizard.

But be only laughed darkly at her actions and his laughter chilled Amy to the bone. She was instantly reminded of the dark, dank basement she had been locked in the last time she had seen the wizard before her. Her bones immediately began to ache, and Amy could practically feel that blasted knife digging through the tender skin of her thigh once more.

"Not at all, princess," he sneered, pointing his wand at her face, no quiver or shake in his hand, completely unyielding. Amy eyed the wand, refusing to allow any fear to show in her eyes. She had shown her enough pain before and she refused to do so now. "I came here to kill some Mudbloods, and when I saw your pretty head in the fray, I just couldn't help myself."

He pressed his heel in deeper into her stomach, and Amy gasped involuntarily as he leaned down towards her, his sour breath passing over her face. "I've missed you so much, dearie. After you got away the last time, well, I've been dreaming of you for months." He smiled, baring his teeth at her, as he turned his wand threateningly in his hand.

"You better get a new dream then," she said darkly.

Avery smirked.

"How's your leg doing?" he asked sadistically. "Did your Muggle-loving Weasley enjoy your brand? I'd love to give you another one. Or maybe I'll just kill you? Would you prefer that, love?"

Amy laughed suddenly, throwing Avery off for half a second, and she took advantage of his surprise to reach out and grab the front of his robes, pulling him closer until they were only a few inches apart.

"I'd like to see you try," she sneered.

Avery laughed at her and shook his head mockingly, directing his wand towards her chest and opening his mouth to curse her.

He never even had a chance.

She shoved her hand against his knee, pushing his foot off of her chest. Avery stumbled, surprised by the witch's sudden attack, and thinking quickly, Amy raised her own wand, a bright light flying into Avery's chest, sending him flying back. She had hoped it would be enough to send him crashing back into the wall, but he landed on his back, several feet away, gasping for breath. Without taking a second to catch her breath, Amy pushed herself onto her elbows at the same time he did, their eyes meeting for a brief second before the two opponents jumped up, wands aloft.

They were both ready. This would be the last time they met; there was no way in hell that Amy was going to deal with this sick fuck again.

"So, you wanna play before you die?" Avery snarled darkly. "I'm fine with that."

The two glared at each other for a moment longer, no one else taking notice of the two as the battle raged on around the duelers. Another explosion rocked the castle, forcing the two to stagger from their stances, more rocks tumbling around them, dust falling from the ceilings, hiding the opponents from each other.

Blinking the dust from her eyes, Amy used the momentary blindness to her advantage, shooting a curse in the hope that it would hit Avery. It may not have been fair, but after everything Amy had been through since arriving at Hogwarts, she wasn't going to fight fairly against a Death Eater; she was going to fight dirty until one of them was dead, and after what he had done to her? Well, he deserved it.

As the dust settled around them, Amy saw that her curse had hit Avery but with little damage. He was clutching his side, bright red blood oozing through his robes, but when he looked up and saw Amy watching him, he smirked at her, and Amy narrowed her eyes in concentration. A single moment passed between the two, and then sparks were flying both ways, the two determined to hit the other in any way possible. They were both excellent duelists, they knew their own strengths and weaknesses, how and when to move, they knew what needed to be done to survive. They knew their spells, dark and not, they knew their capabilities, and they knew the other's, and they knew that this night was going to end with one of them dead.

Avery shot a curse at her, forcing Amy to duck to avoid being hit, her hair flying in front of her face as the spell flew harmlessly passed her, crashing into the wall, sending even more dust and wall fragments flying through the hall. Several of the rocks hit Amy, cutting into her skin and bruising her, and Avery sent another curse flying towards the witch, hitting her directly in the shoulder.

Before she could stand up to cast a spell back at the Death Eater, a strong voice cried out from behind her. A streak of color flew over her head, straight towards the wizard and hitting him in the chest. The power of the curse, likely fueled by anger and hatred, had Avery flying back into the wall, where he collapsed onto the ground, a cloud of dust surrounding him. Amy watched his prone figure for any movement, but he lay there motionless in the pile of debris and dust.

Amy straightened up staring at the dark wizard in stunned silence, before a fury consumed her and she spun around, her hands on her hips, glaring fiercely around her.

"Who the hell killed my Death Eater?" she demanded angrily.

But before she could focus on the culprit, Amy felt a calloused hand wrap around her wrist, and the witch was pulled into a nearby nook in the wall which was shadowed and hidden from the war at hand. Red flashed before her eyes, glowing in the light of a curse, and Amy stared up into cold, blue eyes that were alight with fire. Her heart skipped at beat upon seeing these eyes but before she could say or do anything, Amy was cut off by _his _voice.

"_What the bloody hell do you think you're doing here_?"

Amy looked up at Charlie with wide eyes, watching his face light up with fury. His chest was heaving and blood was speckled across his face, filling in the spaces between his freckles. He was still gripping her wrist tightly and Amy knew he wouldn't be letting up any time soon.

Amy knew Charlie wasn't happy with her being here – she had seen how disgruntled he was when she had first arrived – but she hadn't expected this, she had never expected this fury and this burning anger of his. She wasn't entirely sure how she was supposed to respond to it all.

And when Amy failed to respond immediately, Charlie snapped, grabbing her arms and shaking her slightly. She gasped slightly, her already aching bones and muscles screaming out and she scowled up at him.

"Let go of me," Amy growled, trying to rip her sore arms away from him. This was neither the time nor the place, and after everything she had been through since leaving Hogwarts, after everything she had seen that night – _after Bridgette_ – she wasn't going to have this argument right then. She couldn't do this, not now.

Charlie, however, ignored her and only gripped her tighter.

"Amy, what are you doing here?" he demanded once more. Amy continued to struggle, choosing to try and get away from him rather than respond.

"Charlie," Amy said, finally saying his name aloud in what felt like forever. "Charlie, let me go. We cannot do this right now. Let me go."

She continued to struggle, refusing to meet his eyes, knowing that the second she did she would melt into his embrace. Amy was a strong woman, but even she had her limits and being this close to Charlie, the man she loved, after nine months was pushing her past her limits. She had to fight and she had to fight to stay away from Charlie – just for a few hours more – and then they could talk, then they could do anything they wanted, including living out the remainder of their lives together.

But they couldn't do this now, they couldn't have this conversation now, not with the battle waging around them and not with their lives and the lives of their friends and family at stake.

"You're not supposed to be here!" Charlie continued to argue vehemently.

He was growing frustrated with the witch; he couldn't understand why she had returned, why she had put herself in so much danger, why she had been smiling and laughing with that damn wizard she had brought with her, why she was here.

"Not supposed to be here?" Amy repeated. "Where else would I be? I belong here!"

"No!" Charlie shouted. "You don't! It's not safe here, Amy! Just go home!"

Amy looked up at these words, and suddenly, all those reasons she had not to fight with him, dissipated the moment her eyes met his.

"Go home?" she repeated, her words lace with fury. "Go _home_? Charlie, this is my home and it has been for the past four years!"

Charlie opened his mouth to say something, but Amy cut him off before he could take a breath.

"And for the past nine months, I've been living in agony, wondering what was going on in _my _home, to _my _friends, to the people that _I_ love," Amy cried. She had managed to finally pull her arms out of Charlie's grip and was gesticulating with a wild fury. "I've been working day-in and day-out to protect you all, to help you, to prepare myself and my friends to protect this school. For nine months, I've agonized over the fact that I had no idea what was happening to any of you, thinking that I would just be left to sit in the dark for the remainder of my life.

"Amy-"

"And you know what, Charlie?" the witch interrupted. "I've done it all for _you_! I've done this all for you Charlie, so that you could have that goddamn 'moment' while I've suffered for hundreds of moments without you!"

She took a step forward and shoved him, hard, in the chest, sending him stumbling back into the wall. Standing in front of him, Amy glared up at him, fury brewing in her veins. "So don't you dare," Amy hissed, "tell me to go home when you should know that this castle, that _you_, are my home."

"You don't think I've suffered?" Charlie bellowed suddenly. He took a step away from the wall so that their chests were pressed together. He could feel every breath she took, and he had to force himself not to think about how close they were to each other.

"You don't think I've gone through the exact same thing as you?" Charlie demanded. "You don't think I've agonized over what was happening to you every moment of every day, wondering desperately if you were alright, if you were hurt? Don't you know that I wished desperately and madly for months that you were here, but I was so incredibly thankful that you weren't because I knew you were safe? Don't you know that?"

"Why the fuck does it matter if I was safe if I was absolutely, completely miserable?" Amy cried, throwing her hands into the air furiously. "I know that you thought my going away would be the best thing, but I can't believe that I allowed myself to get talked into that complete and utter bullshit. So what if I was safe? I would rather have been here all along with _you_ then anywhere else, and I was a fool to allow you to talk me into leaving."

"I don't think it was foolish of you to want to be safe or for me to _want_ you to be safe," Charlie blurted out. "But I do think it's foolish for you to be here right now. You're going to get hurt! And I'm not going to let that happen! So just get out of here. Now. Please." He placed his hands on her shoulders as though to usher her out of the corridor and send her on her way, but Amy brushed him off immediately.

"No!" Amy cried. "I am _not_ leaving. Not again, not ever. Never again. I'm staying here no matter what you say, and I'm fighting no matter what you say."

"Amy," Charlie said, clearly growing exasperated, "I'm just trying to protect you, that's all I'm- "

"Protect me?" Amy repeated. "_Protect me_? And how exactly have you been protecting me for the last nine months? How have you been ensuring my safety or showing that you love me or anything at all?"

"Amy, I love you. You know that. There's no way that I couldn't, and there's no way I could ever forget about you. How could I forget about you when you're all I ever think about? When you're the only thing I've thought about for the last four years?"

"That's not the point, Charlie," Amy forced out. "The point is that nine months ago, I left my home because you begged me to, because you told me that my staying here would put you in danger. The point is that I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you and rather than being able to do that, I went off to live with my parents, waiting tables, and trying to wrangle together a group of my friends who have put their lives on the line for people they don't even know, people that they have _died_ for.

"The point is, Charlie Weasley, that I have spent nine months thinking that something had happened to you and that I would never get to see you again or tell how much I love you or – "

She was still rambling, almost madly and then, Charlie's hand was suddenly on the back of her neck, and he pulled her face up to meet his, her words dying against his lips. His other hand wound around her waist and she was pressed to his chest, and her hands were in his hair and on his shoulders and his back and she was pulling him impossibly closer to her.

Charlie just couldn't take it anymore. He just couldn't let her continue on this track. He couldn't let her keep talking while this war waged around them and he couldn't let her think that he didn't love her or that he didn't care about her when the burning love he had for her was practically consuming him. Her being there in front of him and watching her speak so passionately – even if she was furious with him – had driven him crazy. And he couldn't handle it. Not after nine months.

And then her back pressed against the wall, and his hand was on her thigh, pulling her leg up so that their hips were flush against each other. Amy gasped against his mouth, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck as she drew him in closer. He opened his mouth, deepening the kiss. He caught her bottom lip between his teeth, and Amy moaned, melting into the feel of his arms wrapped around her. He was warm and soft and strong and all that she had ever wanted, everything that she had missed, and everything she loved.

Eventually, they were forced to give way to the burning in their lungs, but they didn't stray too far. With their foreheads still pressed closed together, Amy watched as the red fury in Charlie's blue eyes died away, leaving only love in its place.

"Tell me now," he whispered, his lips brushing over hers. "Tell me now that you love me."

"I do," Amy promised, oblivious to the pain and despair around them. "I do, I love you."

Charlie smiled, blindingly and drew Amy in for another crushing kiss. The witch smiled against his lips and pressed her fingers into Charlie's soft, ginger hair, and Charlie, in response, kissed her fiercely, his arms tightening slightly, lifting her onto the tips of her toes.

He released her much sooner after this kiss, and Amy immediately ran her hands over his shirt, allowing the smooth fibers to slip like water through her fingertips. She shut her eyes for a brief second, allowing the warmth of his body to settle over her and cast away the dark chill that had been coursing through her.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do this," Charlie whispered quietly, his arms wrapping around her waist instinctively.

"I do actually," Amy replied. She smiled, really smile for the first time in weeks, months even. She leaned up and kissed him once more, softly and carefully, and when they finally pulled apart, their eyes were wide.

Dazed smiles spread across their faces, but they didn't stay for long. Though they had ducked into a rather shadowed nook in the wall, they were not safe from the battle raging on around them. Curses and jinxes were still flying all around them, and they were quickly pulled out of their little bit of heaven when one string of curses collided with a nearby wall.

Gravel and broken stones flew through the air, knocking into enemies and allies alike, and they crumbled under the force of the rocks, their bodies falling limp among the debris and blood, and yet the others continued on. Curses were cast, spells were sent, good fought evil and evil fought good, and yet there were no definitive winners. All that the Amy and Charlie could comprehend from their little cranny was the sheer amount of blood and loss lives that were littered around them.

Teens, adults, good and bad alike, all sprawled across the floor in the positions of their last breath.

Every small figure lying prone on the floor was a stab in Amy's heart. They were her students and she hadn't been there to protect them. She knew that her duty to them was as a teacher, but her duty to herself was to do anything in her power to keep them safe.

And then suddenly, all around them, the castle began to rumble and shake and in the far off distance, the couple heard an explosion rip through the school. Amy grabbed Charlie hand as the walls shook around her, and Charlie entwined his fingers with hers.

"What the hell was that?" Charlie demanded.

Amy shrugged her shoulders in response, taking a few steps out of their little corner of solitude and into the corridor. The others who had been fighting in that same corridor stopped in their tracks, watching in queer fascination as dust began to sprinkle down around them.

So entranced and so bewildered by it all, Amy and the others failed to head the crumbling of the ceiling or Charlie's sudden cry until it was too late.

Amy looked back at the horror-stricken red-head before the stone vault above them came crashing down on the corridor. With her eyes wide with fear, Amy watched as stones and dust tumbled and crumbled down around them all. She lost Charlie somewhere in the mess of it all, and she didn't even have enough time to pray that he would be fine – that they would _all_ be fine – before she was struck in the head, and she was sent stumbling into silent darkness.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Again, I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think, and I promise you that I'm already working on the next chapter!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	80. Chapter 79

**AN:** And I'm back! And it didn't take me five months either! Woosh... that's a miracle. Because I have no social life, as mentioned in the previous chapter, all I really do is sit around and watch re-runs of Hell's Kitchen (crappy TV is my favorite kind of TV and it's so mindless that I can write or read or anything really). That's really all I've done all summer except for the first week where I went to Colorado on a Habitat for Humanity trip which was amazing. We were only painting houses while we were there (rather than constructing the roof and walls like last time) but painting is actually really exhausting, especially when you're living with sixteen other teenagers and four chaperones who want nothing more than to be home and away from their students. Needless to say, we were all happy to be going home by the end of it, and I was just happy to get away from those ruthless Colorado mosquitoes and the kids in my group who insisted on us all playing soccer together in the mosquito-infested field by our volunteer house. Soccer's great and all but when you're as bad a player as I am, well it's hazardous to everyone's health to play with me.

Anyway just thought I'd catch you up on my boring and rather dull life. Onto the next chapter!

**Dedication: **To my loyal and lovely readers and reviewers, thank you so much for sticking with me.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

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><p><em>Find my hand<br>in the darkness  
>and if we<br>cannot find  
>the light,<br>we  
>will always<br>make our  
>own.<br>_

_-_Tyler Knott Gregson

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><p>There was a ringing in her ears, a loud obnoxious ringing that was consuming her senses and making it impossible for her to think at all. Amy felt as though someone had taken a sledgehammer to her head and bashed her brains in – or maybe she'd just been hit in the head by a stone ceiling. Either way, there was a ringing in her ears and when she finally managed to open her eyes, it felt like she was ripping open her own skin.<p>

She blinked blearily, trying to focus her vision, but no matter how many times she blinked the dust and dirt out of her eyes, everything in her line of sight stayed fuzzy around the edges. She tried to move her head to look at the corridor around her, but the slightest movement caused her head to explode with bright white pain. Amy gasped and scrunched her eyes together as the pain washed over her in waves, and when it had diminished to a dull throb, she raised a shaky hand to her head, feeling her fingers smear with wetness.

Even through her blurred vision, Amy could see the dark red painted across her fingers and she sighed in exasperation.

"Just perfect," she muttered, trying to ignore the grainy feel of the words against her lips. Knowing that she couldn't remain sprawled across that dust and blood covered floor any longer, the witch pushed herself, slowly and carefully, onto her elbows, easing her way through the crushing ache that was building in her head.

Looking around, Amy could see that the dust was still clearing and the others who had been caught in the fall of the vault were beginning to stumble around, calling out for friends and loved ones in the mess of rubble. Amy watched them all for a moment or so, her eyes following their every movement, and her gaze eventually fell on the cranny in the wall where Charlie had been standing just as the ceiling caved in.

Except the spot where he had been standing was now piled high with broken stones, and Charlie was nowhere to be seen.

Amy's breath caught in her throat, and she ignored the blinding pain in her head as she scrambled towards the last place she had seen the red-head. Her knees scraped against the rocks, but she took no notice as she looked around wildly, not really knowing what to do or where to start. Amy could feel the tears starting to well up in the corner of her eyes as she began to dig through the rubble, clearing away stone after stone. She threw them to the side or over her shoulder, her hands shaking and growing bruised as she thrust her hands into the mountain of stone.

"This can't be happening," Amy murmured under her breath. "This can't be happening. Not now, not ever. Charlie, Charlie, Charlie…"

She continued this whispered mantra as she dug through the rocks beneath her, knowing that she couldn't let her mind wander to any other possibility. She would find him, he would be alright, he had to be alright. _They would be alright_.

In the back of her mind, Amy had a distinct memory of doing this exact same thing just a year ago, in almost the exact same place, in search of another red-haired man, and she found herself praying that Charlie would be alright, just like his older brother was.

She was just beginning to think that she should start digging somewhere else, when her hand brushed against something soft – something _warm_ – and she found herself kneeling down next to a hand – a freckled hand – and her digging started again, this time with a new fury.

Her hands were beginning to shake from all the effort she was putting in and from the terrible throbbing in her head. She didn't understand why she hadn't seen him before. He wasn't buried beneath the stones – not entirely at least – it was mainly just his legs and stomach. By some miracle, his face and chest were by only a few rocks, and as she continued to clear the rubble away, she allowed herself a breath of relief when she saw that aside from a matching, bleeding bump to the head and a large bruise on his stomach, he was relatively unharmed.

When she had finally managed to clear away the stones from his body, she crawled up next to Charlie's head, carefully pulling him into her lap. She ran a few fingers through his hair, being careful to avoid the blood that was still oozing from the gash on his head and she bent over to press a kiss to his bloodied forehead.

"Charlie," Amy said softly. "Charlie, you need to wake up. Please Charlie, wake up."

He didn't respond or move, even in the slightest, and in a fit of panic, Amy pressed her fingers to his throat, feeling for a pulse. When she felt it, beating steadily beneath the pads of her fingertips, she let out a sob of relief. She could still hear students moving around behind her, and she forced herself to swallow down the remaining sobs that were building up inside of her and focus on waking up the man before her.

Carefully, she shifted his head out of her lap, setting it gently on the ground, before moving to kneel next to his chest. She ran a hand over his hair, smoothing down some of his frayed edges, before letting her hand settle on his shoulder. The witch shook him, gently at first but then progressively more viciously, until his head was rolling around against the ground.

"Charlie," Amy repeated. "C'mon, wake up. Darling, it's time to wake up now."

When he still didn't respond, Amy felt her panic and fear build up inside of her, and she dug her nails into his shoulders, giving him a violent shake.

"Charles Weasley, wake up right now!"

Amy sat there, her gaze darting over every angle of his face, waiting for a response or a twitch or _anything_, but there was nothing. She sniffled loudly and bit down on her tongue to stop herself from crying. Leaning forward, Amy wrapped her arms carefully around his neck and she pulled him close to her so that her face was pressed against his throat. She held him there for several moments, forcing herself to think happy thoughts, any thought other than the one that Charlie wasn't going to make it, anything but that. She could handle anything except that.

"Merlin dear," a low voice murmured in her ear. "You know there's no need to shout."

Amy gasped and pulled away so she was face to face with Charlie's half-grimacing, half-smiling face. His eyes were a little watery and glazed over, but there was a faint spark in them, which brought his entire face to life.

"Didn't think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?"

Amy let out a choked laugh.

"That's not funny, Charlie."

"It made you laugh though, didn't it?"

Amy bit her lip to hold back her smile before throwing her arms around Charlie's neck and pulling him into a warm embrace. He wrapped his arms around her back, not nearly as tightly as she, but she could feel his strength and his warmth radiating through her to the core.

When they pulled apart, Amy wiped at a few stray tears that adorned her face and Charlie took this moment to survey the witch before him, taking in each of the scratches and bruises that he could see. He raised a shaky hand and brushed it over gash on her head. She hissed slightly, and Charlie immediately pulled his hand away.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Does it hurt?"

"You tell me," Amy murmured in reply. She raised her own hand to brush over Charlie's wound. "You have one too."

"Really?" Charlie asked, his brow furrowing in an adorable manner. "I don't even feel it. Especially when I'm around you."

"That was cheesy as hell," Amy said immediately. "And I'm fairly disappointed in you."

"Don't blame me," Charlie said, adjusting his grip on Amy's waist so that she was almost sitting in his lap. "I did just get crushed by a stone ceiling. I've probably have a concussion or something."

"Yeah or something," Amy murmured under her breath as she rolled her eyes. Charlie smiled, amazed by this beauty before him and by the fact that they had so easily fallen into their old, beloved ways, and he leaned forward, weaving his fingers through her tangled hair and pressing a soft kiss against her lips.

She had just wrapped her arms around her neck when a cold voice which chilled her to the bone, turning her blood to ice, echoed through the air. It sounded as though whoever had spoken was standing just over her shoulder and Amy whipped around to find that she and Charlie were alone in the corridor.

"Voldemort," Amy murmured, her voice just above a whisper, and Charlie's grip on her waist tightened in response, drawing the witch closer as they listened to the echo of the Dark Wizard's voice around them.

"You have fought valiantly," said the voice, slinking its way through the corridor. "Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery.

"Yet you have sustained heavy losses."

Amy's thoughts immediately went to Bridgette, whose body she had left out on the castle grounds, and to everyone else she had seen fall in battle that night.

"If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste."

Amy wondered if he thought Bridgette's blood had been a waste or if hers would be.

"Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you."

Amy and Charlie looked at each other immediately, their grips on each other tightening as their thoughts went instantly to the black haired boy who had become one of their family.

"You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me.

"One hour."

The voice in the hall died away until the only thing that remained of it was the cold echo in their heads.

"We should, um…" Amy muttered under her breath. "We should head down to the Great Hall." She looked to Charlie for confirmation and he nodded slowly.

"Yeah we should," he said distractedly. He gave her a slight smile before reaching out to brush away a strand of hair from her face. "C'mon."

Carefully, because her head was still aching something awful, Amy got to her feet, wobbling a bit as a wave of dizziness washed over her. She let it pass before turning around to help Charlie to his feet as well. He too wobbled at first, but he eventually gained his footing on the rocky ground.

Still, they were both a tad unstable, even on their own two feet, and they quickly found themselves leaning on each other as they hobbled across the rubble-strewn floor. She gripped his waist tightly, clenching a handful of his shirt in her hands as she tried to hold herself up, while he wrapped an arm around her waist in an almost bruising grip while keeping his other hand pressed against his bruised side. Amy's head was beginning to ache again and she could feel a steady stream of blood trailing down the outside of her leg. She had obviously cut herself earlier in the night and was only now feeling the extent of her injuries as the adrenaline faded away. There was also a dull throbbing in her chest, but Amy ignored it, knowing that there was nothing she could do to try and heal her aching heart. At least, not right then.

Together, the couple limped their way towards the doors of the Great Hall, leaning heavily on each other as they made their way through the rubble covered corridor.

There were others who appeared to be doing the same thing. Groups of students, many of who were sporting cuts and bruises of their own, were making their way towards the Great Hall. Their steps switched from eager to hesitant with every step they took. They wanted to see their family and friends, wanted to know that they were safe and unharmed, but they all seemed to know the gravity and reality of the situation at hand. They knew the likelihood of seeing their family members sprawled across the floor in death and they knew of the pain that likely hid behind the doors of the Great Hall.

But like Amy and Charlie, they also knew that there was hope. There was always the faintest possibility, the faintest dream, that no one they knew or cared about would be harmed. There was always that hope and they knew they had to believe in that faint hope. Without it, they would break into a thousand sharp shards of despair of hopelessness.

There would be no chance – no hope – of fixing them after that.

Slowly, Charlie and Amy made their way to the Great Hall, taking extra care to make sure they didn't harm themselves on the trip. The stones before the doorway were bathed in blood, and Amy could feel the eerie smoothness of it beneath her feet. They were some of the last to make their way into the Hall, and by that time the majority of the dead and injured had already been placed on the floor. The injured were huddled in the corner, Madam Pomfrey rushing back and forth between each patient, her hair frizzy and an utter mess.

Those who had died in battle were placed in a row along the Hall, and Amy's eyes trailed from one body to the next, searching for that one corpse with blondish-red curls. But when she finally spied a body with red hair, it wasn't the one she was looking for and the sight of it made Amy's heart stop and her grip on Charlie tightened painfully.

The wizard looked at her softly, but she was staring, wide-eyed towards the far end of the hall. Charlie hesitated but followed her gaze nonetheless, and when he saw a band of red-heads – _his family_ – clustered together over one of the fallen forms, well… it fell like someone had punched him straight in the gut and he was having such difficulty breathing that he thought someone had pulled out his lungs.

Slowly, as though he were a ghost, Charlie slipped out from beneath Amy's arm. He stumbled a bit as he tried to find his balance without the support of his girlfriend, and Amy only just managed to grab his hand, stopping him from falling face first onto the dusty ground. He didn't shake her off, but ignored her, taking slow shuffled steps towards the Weasley cluster. Amy trailed behind him, her hand still wrapped tightly around his as she looked between his family and Charlie's shoulders, which were as stiff as a rock.

The couple was only a few feet away from them when the others finally noticed them. Relief crossed their splotchy, tear-riddled faces at the sight of the red-haired wizard and the American witch, and they parted to reveal their fallen family member.

It was Fred, lively, cheerful Fred, and Amy felt her heart sink just as Charlie's shoulders slumped and his hand slipped away from hers.

The witch watched as Charlie slowly stepped towards the fallen wizard, and she bit her lip desperately to hold in a sob when Charlie knelt down next to his little brother. He reached out towards Fred, covering his hand with his own, and Amy had to look away when she saw that Charlie's shoulders had begun to shake.

As she turned away, she caught sight of Ginny standing just to her right. The young witch's face was a mix of blotchy red patches and tears, and when she saw Amy looking at her with a terribly-pained look of her own, Ginny crossed the small distance between the two of them and collapsed into Amy's waiting arms. She was shaking and Amy thought that she may be shaking as well, but she forced herself to focus on the sixteen year old in her arms. She rubbed her hand soothingly over Ginny's back and when they pulled apart, Amy gave the teen a small, sad smile.

"Are you alright?" Amy asked softly, wiping away a stray tear from the corner of her eye.

Ginny sniffled and shook her head, looking over her shoulder at Fred and her other brothers. Amy spared a glance over at them as well, noting that Charlie was still gripping Fred's hand tightly in his own but that he had leaned over to wrap an arm around Molly's shoulder and was whispering softly to his mother.

When Ginny turned back to her teacher, she noticed that the small smile she had been sporting was gone, replaced with a tight expression.

"Right of course not," Amy said breathily. "Of course you're not, sweetie. But you will be. We all will be."

It was Ginny's turn to offer up a small, sad smile of her own, and she stepped closer to Amy so that the professor could wrap an arm around her shoulder. Amy held onto her tightly and the two witches stood like that for some time, breaking apart only when Hermione and Ron suddenly joined their group.

Charlie, who noticed the arrival of his youngest brother, gave his mother one last squeeze and another set of whispered words before standing up. He clapped Ron on the shoulder once and gave Hermione a watery smile before moving over towards Amy and his sister. Ginny slowly withdrew her arm from around her professor and stepped into Charlie's waiting ones. The second Charlie felt Ginny's skinny arms wrap around his waist, he pulled her tightly against him and Ginny buried her face into Charlie's shoulder, her own slight shoulders heaving with tears.

Amy wrapped her arms around herself, watching as her wizard clutched his baby sister to his chest, his hand winding into the long strands of her matching red hair. He held onto the girl for perhaps a beat longer than necessary, not wanting to let go of his sister but wanting to keep her somewhere safe. Eventually though, he did release her and after having her hair ruffled in a half-hearted display of affection, Ginny moved next to Ron and Hermione while Charlie came over to stand near Amy.

The two watched in mournful silence as Molly and Arthur wept over their son and George sat nearby, motionless and silent, something which Amy believed to be a first for the poor wizard. She could never understand the pain he was going through –what they were all going through – and it tore Amy to pieces having to watch them all fall apart around her. She held in her tears though, wanting to remain strong for Charlie, wanting to remain strong for them all. There wasn't much she could do to ease the pain that was for sure ripping through their hearts, but she could at least provide them with a little bit of comfort and a pair of warm arms to hide in.

From the corner of her eye, Amy saw Charlie shake his head in frustration, turning away from his family. When she looked over at him, he had his hands covering his face and he seemed to be murmuring madly to himself. Amy spared a worried glance over at the others before coming up behind Charlie. She placed a careful hand on his muscled shoulder and turned herself so that she could peer up at him. Just being able to touch him again after so long made Amy's heart jump a few beats.

"Hey," she said softly, waiting for him to remove his hands from his face before she continued on. "What can I do? What do you need?"

Charlie looked at her with wild, bleary eyes that were rimmed with red.

"What do I need?" he repeated in a rather lost voice. "I –uh – I need – I – "

"Charlie," Amy said gently, running a hand up his arm to his shoulder. He looked at her. "Breathe."

He nodded shakily and took a breath.

Once he had, Amy gave him a careful smile. "Now tell me what you need."

He stood there silently for a moment, contemplating her words before looking her in the eye.

"I need to get out of here," he said. Amy blinked, startled by this and she looked quickly back at his mourning family behind her. "I can't do this right now."

"Charlie," Amy began, "you can't leave, not now. Your family needs you."

The wizard too spared a glance at his family, his eyes ghosting over his still sobbing mother, his blotchy face sister, his brother who was now only half of a pair, and when he looked back at Amy, there were tears in his eyes.

"I can't," he said simply. "I'm going to go help them bring the rest of the bodies in." He gave the witch a half-hearted smile that was really more of a grimace and pressed a kiss to her forehead before leaving Amy standing in the middle of the Hall. She watched his broad back disappear in the crowd of students still slowly making their way into the hall.

She couldn't quite believe that he had just left like that, but at the same time, Amy suspected that standing here in the Great Hall with all of the dead - with his dead brother - was simply too much for him to handle. She wished he had stayed behind, knowing that he would likely regret this decision in the future, but she also recognized that Charlie was an adult and he knew how to handle his grief - they all knew how to handle grief now - and if this was how he did it, then who was she to stop him?

Still, the witch sighed, shaking her head and wishing that she had said something to keep the wizard there where he belonged. It was then that a speckle of pink nearby caught the Amy's eye and she felt her stomach sink to her feet as her resolve to stay strong crumble into pieces at her feet.

She knew that head of pink hair, she'd know it anywhere. She had seen it just a few hours ago on a search for her husband. Amy knew exactly who that was laying there and the witch turned slowly to face the body lying on the ground, smothering the sobs which were ripping through her slight frame.

She knew who it was. How couldn't she?

It was Tonks. Lively, vivacious, clumsy, endearing Tonks.

The same Tonks who had befriended Amy within minutes of their meeting. The same Tonks who Amy had relied on and who had relied on Amy in return. The same Tonks who worked so hard to get the man she loved and who had become the mother of a beautiful baby boy just a few short weeks ago. The same Tonks who now lay dead before her, her eyes open in a glassy, unseeing stare.

She had been placed next Fred and Amy felt a new set of sobs rip through her when she recognized the brown-gray hair of Remus lying next to his wife. With staggered steps, Amy made her way over to the fallen couple, kneeling down between the two. They looked as though they were sleeping rather than dead, and Amy could only pray that Tonks had found Remus before they had fallen.

Amy gave Remus a sorrowful look, thinking to herself that there had never been a better, braver man or teacher, before turning her attention to Tonks. The witch's hair was still that lively color of pink that she had been so fond of, and she brushed a lock of it out of Tonk's face.

"I'll take good care of him," Amy promised, thinking of the sweet baby boy she had met a month ago. "He _will_ be proud of you." She looked over at Remus. "Of you both."

And she knew she wouldn't be the only one to ensure that Teddy knew of his parents' bravery and love. He still had his grandmother, Andromeda, who Amy was sure would want to raise her grandson, and Harry as Teddy's godfather would also be there to help raise and love the boy.

Harry who Amy had taught for years and watched grow from a scrawny fourteen year old boy to a hero. Harry who had brought them all here tonight, ready to end this battle once and for all. Harry who Amy hadn't seen since the beginning of the evening, and it was that thought that had Amy standing up and looking around.

In the midst of the dead around her, Amy stood on her toes, scanning the crowd around her for the black haired wizard. There were still tears stained onto her face and Amy wiped at her face desperately, trying to clear her vision. She didn't have enough time, however, to panic over the whereabouts of one Harry Potter however because something came crashing into Amy's side. On instinct, Amy wrapped her arms around this something, and it was only when a crazed mane of her was thrust into her face that Amy recognized that this something was actually a _someone._

"Oh Professor!" Hermione cried. Her voice was loud and tremulous in Amy's ear. "You're here! You're alright!"

Amy pulled away and gave the young witch a watery smile. The American surveyed the girl before her, taking in her bony figure and the scratches which adorned her face and arms.

"It's good to see you, Hermione," Amy said wearily. She was thoroughly exhausted from the onslaught of tears she had tried – and failed – to hold back, but she couldn't help the smile and relief she felt at seeing her young student – or perhaps it was now ex-student – in front of her, safe and relatively unharmed. "Though I do wish it was under the current circumstances."

Hermione smiled forlornly in response.

"I know what you mean," she said softly, and Amy knew the witch was thinking of the row of bodies that lay behind them, one right next to the other in a neat, orderly row. She knew she was thinking of Fred and of Tonks and Remus as well.

Amy brushed away a chunk of her hair that had fallen into her face and she winced as her fingers grazed the gash on her hairline. Her head exploded again with that blinding white pain and Amy released Hermione so she could grasp her head with a small, pained gasp.

Hermione looked worriedly at her teacher and carefully led her away from the slew of bodies and towards one of the giant tables that had been pushed against the wall. She settled her down on one of the benches. As Amy sat there, groaning and clutching her head, Hermione hovered over her.

"Stay there," Hermione ordered with an almost unsettling conviction. "I'll get Madame Pomfrey to come and look at you."

Before Amy could protest, the teen had scurried off to go and find the Healer, and Amy was left to her thoughts and the burning memories of the past few hours. The witch placed two delicate hands to her temple, pressing down with as much pressure that she could muster, anything to stop the throbbing in her head.

She was so incredibly tired and the night wasn't even over yet. Even sitting down Amy could feel just how weary and sore her entire body was. Her muscles were stinging sharply and her ribs ached something awful. Amy wouldn't be surprised if she had bruised or even cracked one of them at one point during the night. Of course, it was better to be alive and in pain then dead, right?

…Right?

Amy sighed, leaning forward. She braced her elbows against her knees and cradled her head in the grimy palms of her hands as she thought exactly about those that had died that night. They were all spread out before her, and the witch peeked through her fingers at the mass of bodies lined up across the hall. They had all been killed by the unyielding wrath of Voldemort and his followers. All that remained of them now were their cold corpses and the memories of their friends and family. They had been destroyed, deprived of their very existence, and it was the survivors who paid for it in the end.

They were all gone.

They were dead.

And Amy and those other unfortunate survivors who remained were forced to pick up the pieces.

That is, if there were any left to pick up when this battle was done.

"Hey there."

Amy looked up, ripped from her thoughts, to see Thomas standing before her. He was wearing a wary smile and Amy was relieved, after a quick glance, to see that he was relatively unharmed except for a few scratches and bruises.

"Hi," Amy said softly, giving the wizard a small smile of her own.

Thomas nodded at the spot next to her on the bench.

"This seat open?"

Amy nodded and shifted over, and the wizard plopped down next to her with a sigh.

"These benches are not comfy in the slightest," he said. He squirmed a bit, trying to find a comfortable spot. He failed.

"Try sitting in these every day of the school year," Amy said gruffly. Thomas smirked.

"Poor fancy wizardry school," Thomas teased, nudging the witch in the side. Amy offered him a small smile, but it quickly slipped off her face as she looked around at the situation before her. Thomas took note of the witch's somber attitude, and he too fell into a sober silence of his own.

The two sat together quietly, watching the hustle and bustle around them.

"Is – " Amy broke off before she could say another word. Thomas looked over at the witch and she mournfully looked up at him. She took a breath before continuing on. "Is Sam okay?"

Thomas nodded.

"He's fine," he told her. "He's helping bring in the other bodies with the rest of the crew."

Amy nodded and looked away from her friend, glad to know that at least one set of Twins had made it out of the battle unscathed. Instinctively, the witch looked over the Weasley clan, who were still huddled together around Fred. Thomas followed her gaze towards the red-headed bunch.

"That your family?" he asked softly. Amy looked over at him, expecting to see a teasing gleam in his eye, but there was none. The witch looked back over at the Weasleys before nodding sharply.

"Yeah," she said, her eyes drifting from each member of the family before over at Tonks and Remus. "It is."

"They – uh – they look like a nice family," he said.

Amy smiled.

"The best family," she corrected, swallowing down the knot of tears that had developed in her throat.

Thomas looked over at the red-heads once more.

"Who did they lose?" he asked after a moment of silence.

Amy felt a tear well up in her eye and she quickly brushed it away. She couldn't let anymore tears fall tonight. She had already spent too many.

"Their son, Fred," Amy said softly. "He was a student of mine, one of my favorites. He and his twin brother both were."

Thomas looked at the witch sharply and he shifted uncomfortably at the thought of twin brothers separated by death.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. Amy nodded but she didn't look at the wizard. She instead stared down at her hands, which were folded in her lap, carefully twisting around each other. Thomas observed the witch for a moment before speaking again. "And I'm sorry about Bridgette. I know you two were close."

Amy stiffened suddenly, the image of her friend sprawled across the grass flashing before her eyes.

"Did someone bring her in?" she eventually asked in a soft voice. She didn't dare look up from her twisting hands, afraid that if she did, she would begin to cry. "Did someone bring her body in?"

Thomas nodded sadly, watching Amy yank on her fingers.

"Sam and I did," he finally said. The two brothers had been the first ones out on the grounds, and they had insisted to the other volunteers that they be the ones to bring the red haired witch in to the Great Hall.

"Where is she?" Amy asked in a voice just above a whisper. She looked at Thomas out of the corner of her eye before back down at her hands.

"She's over there," Thomas said quietly, pointing towards an area just a few feet away from the Weasleys. Amy's eyes trailed over to the direction he had pointed in, and she caught sight of Bridgette's red-blonde curls in the light of the candles. She quickly looked back down at her hands as she felt a few tears sting at her eyes. Thomas, however, wasn't finished speaking. "We placed her with the others. We thought it would be best."

Amy looked up sharply at this, not bothering to conceal her tears anymore as her hands fell limp in her lap.

"The others?" she repeated loudly. Thomas looked over at the witch curiously. "What do you mean 'the others?' What 'others?'"

Thomas blinked at her a few times and then suddenly his eyes went wide and he ran a hand over his mouth.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice slightly muffled by his hand. "I-I thought you knew. I thought someone had already told you."

"Told me what?" Amy demanded. She turned in her seat so she was facing the wizard head-on. Amy could feel her heart beating wildly in her chest and she squeezed her hands into fists, feeling her nails dig into the skin of her palms.

Thomas licked his lips, trying to find the best way to phrase what he was going to say. He realized, however, that here really was no _easy_ way to say what he was about to say, and he sighed, looking down at his own hands now.

"Robyn, Aaron, and Celeste. They're dead."

Amy shut her eyes as these words slipped from Thomas's lips, and she slumped forward, pressing the heels of her palm into her eyes so hard that she saw stars before her.

"Oh Merlin," she muttered to herself. "Oh Merlin, what have I done?"

"Amy," Thomas said delicately, shifting slightly closer to the witch. "Take it deep breath."

"A deep breath?" Amy repeated, looking up with bleary eyes. "A deep breath? How can I take a deep breath when they're dead? They're all dead. Oh Merlin. Oh Merlin."

Amy's breaths picked up and her chest began to heave as she struggled to get her words out. Thomas looked at her with wide eyes, beginning to grow concern.

"Amy," Thomas said again. "You gotta breathe, alright? This is not your fault, you hear me? This is not your fault."

"I'm the one who brought them here, Thomas!" Amy cried, her head still in her hands. "They're here because of me, and now they're dead because of me!"

"Amy – "

"Professor?"

Amy looked up, startled to see Hermione before her with Pomfrey at her side. The Healer's skirts were stained with blood and grime and her hands were even worse. Amy swallowed tightly at the sight of the blood splattered over the witch, and she forced away the tears that had built up in her eyes.

"Hermione," Amy said in a strangled voice, not quite meeting the witch's eye. Hermione smiled hesitantly, eyeing Thomas curiously.

"I brought Madam Pomfrey for you," the young witch said.

Amy looked over at the gray-haired witch before back at her former student.

"I see that," she said lightly. "Thank you Hermione."

The witch smiled, glanced between Amy and Thomas once more, before walking off to go rejoin the band of Weasleys. Madam Pomfrey took this as her signal to start working on Amy's injuries. She bustled over towards the younger witch and drew her wand. Amy sat there, patiently for once, as she felt the Healer's spells begin to work. She may have winced once or twice (alright, _maybe _more than once or twice) as the spells pinched and pulled at her skin. Amy could feel the edges of her cuts drawing back together as Madam Pomfrey murmured small spells and charms above her.

"While it's lovely to see you again," Madam Pomfrey said after a moment, "I'm getting really tired of healing your head injuries, Professor."

Amy smirked a bit and then winced as she felt a sharp twinge on her scalp.

"Believe me, Madam Pomfrey," Amy said with utmost sincerity, "I'm getting really tired of getting them."

The Healer let out a small laugh at this, surprised that either of them could find humor in light of the situation before them. They fell into a quick silence, however, as Madam Pomfrey focused on some of Amy's more serious injuries. Amy shifted around uncomfortably but said nothing else. Next to her, Thomas sat in stoic silence, choosing to observe those bustling around in the Hall instead of staring at the witch as she was being healed. He could see his brother over in the corner of the Hall with the other Americans, all of them gathered around their fallen comrades. From the corner of her eye, Amy saw Thomas staring off towards their friends, but she forced herself not to look, afraid that she would be able to see the corpses lying in a neat row.

"There we go," Madam Pomfrey said after several more minutes of healing. She pulled back to give Amy another once over. "That's the best I can do given the circumstances."

"Thank you, Poppy," Amy said. She placed a delicate hand to her head, relieved that she could no longer feel the edges of her gaping wound. Pomfrey patted Amy on the arm before turning her attention over to Thomas.

"Do you need anything, dear?" she asked with a tired voice.

Thomas looked over at the Healer, surprised that she would pay any attention to him, and he immediately turned on a charming and rather disarming smile.

"No thank you," he said cheerily. "I'm feeling great." He gave the witch a wink and continued smiling brightly.

Madam Pomfrey eyed him slightly, uncertain as to how to respond. She gave Amy another pat on the shoulder, eyed Thomas once more, and then hurried off to go and help a new wave of defenders who had just staggered through the doorway.

"You're ridiculous," Amy said once the witch was out of earshot. "Completely ridiculous."

Thomas looked immediately over at Amy, and he smiled widely.

"You know you love me," he said brightly. Amy rolled her eyes.

"Sad but true," she said with a small smile. Relieved to see that smile – no matter how small it was – the wizard leaned over and nudged Amy in the shoulder. Amy looked over at her friend, and he couldn't help but notice that her eyes were still a bit bleary red. She was just about to say something when she caught sight of Charlie standing just behind them. His shirt was stained with blood – new blood that wasn't his – and he was staring at Amy and Thomas with that same, stupid clenched jaw.

"Charlie," Amy said immediately. She straightened up as her eyes roamed over the wizard's form, looking for any new injuries, and Thomas too looked back at the wizard behind them. "You're back."

Charlie nodded stiffly.

"We brought everyone in," he told her in a forced voice, still watching Thomas with a wary eye. "Nothing else for us to do but come in and wait."

Amy nodded, knowing that when he said 'wait' he meant wait for Voldemort and his followers to return to the battle. She was about to say something else when she noticed Thomas squirming a bit in his seat next to her. She glanced at him briefly before back at Charlie whose jaw was still clenched together tightly. The witch could practically see him grinding his teeth together, and it clicked immediately what was going on before her.

"Charlie, this is Thomas," Amy began, looking between the two wizards carefully. "He's an old friend of mine from America, and he and his brother were some of the few who came with me to help."

When the two wizards made no motion to move, Amy immediately nudged Thomas sharply in the ribs. He flinched and shot Amy a quick glower before getting to his feet. He held out a hand to the red-headed wizard who, still glowering, took his hand in a firm grip. Charlie glanced back at Amy for a brief second, noticing her gnawing on her lip in anxiety, and he couldn't help but squeeze Thomas's hand extra tight, causing the American to wince, before they pulled away.

"Pleasure," Charlie said in an uncharacteristically gruff voice, which made Amy wonder if he was trying to conceal his grief or if he was simply just wary of the wizard before him.

"Oh no!" Thomas protested immediately. "It's really all mine." Charlie squinted at him, looking for any sarcasm in the wizard's expression but he found only sincerity.

"Oh really?" Charlie asked carefully.

"Really," Thomas told the wizard. "Amy's told me a lot about you, and it's nice to finally meet the guy who's managed to capture her heart."

"Capture her heart?" Charlie repeated, looking back at the witch who was blushing profusely. He paused, mulling over these words before he shook his head. "You've got it all wrong then mate."

Amy and Thomas both looked at him sharply at this, and the smile on Thomas's face slipped away as Amy's blush died. The witch felt her heart falter a little at the seriousness in his blue eyes, and she was just about to start shouting in protest when Charlie gave a worn and broken smile.

"She ran off with mine," he said with a simple shrug of his shoulders. Amy choked out a laugh and Thomas looked around, startled at the sound. She was just about to throw some stupid albeit cheesy comment back at Charlie when the red-headed wizard grimaced suddenly and grabbed at his side, a look of agonizing pain passing over his face.

Immediately, Amy's smile slid off her face and she jumped up from her seat, quickly making her way over to her wizard. She slipped an arm around his back, letting him brace his weight over her shoulders. Charlie groaned but allowed the witch help him to a seat at one of the House tables. She settled him into his seat before straightening up and watching him with uncertain anxiety, remembering that when she had uncovered him from the cave-in of rocks in the hallway that his side had been blossoming with bruises.

"Are you alright?" Amy asked worriedly. "Is something wrong? Did you hurt yourself? Should I go get Madam Pomfrey?"

Amy looked over her shoulder, ready to send Thomas off in search of the Healer, when Charlie reached out and grabbed Amy's hand, drawing her attention back to the wizard before her.

"I'm fine," he said in a pained voice. "I don't need Pomfrey. I just – I need – "

"What?" Amy said anxiously. "What do you need?"

Charlie looked up and caught met her eye and Amy felt her breath catch in her throat.

"I need you," Charlie told her softly. Immediately, Amy felt whatever anxiety she had building up in her fade away. Now that she was near to the wizard, she could see that his eyes were still rimmed with red and that there were faint tracks of tears on his dusty, grimy cheeks, and it was then that Amy realized that she hadn't seen Charlie cry, not really, not even after seeing Fred. He hadn't cried in front of her or his family, and she suspected it was because he was trying to remain strong, to remain brave in the face of death, and to try and offer some semblance of comfort to those grieving around him, just like she had tried to do. And Amy couldn't help but wonder if he had cried while carrying the other bodies in. Swallowing thickly at the thought, Amy gave Charlie a small smile and a simple nod of her head before reaching out to squeeze his shoulder comfortingly.

"Of course," she murmured. "Of course, I'm right here."

Over the witch's shoulder, Charlie saw Thomas shift uncomfortably at his admission. The American wizard gave the couple an awkward look before heading off towards the other band of Americans, leaving Amy and Charlie to their own devices.

Amy heard Thomas shuffle off, and she assumed he had gone off to join his brother and the others. She didn't watch him go, however, knowing that in this moment it was Charlie who needed her, and so she settled into a seat next to the wizard, close enough that she could feel his heat radiating off him. They sat there for a moment in silence before Charlie reached out and grabbed Amy's hand, entwining his fingers in hers. He pulled their grasped hands into his lap, drawing the witch even closer to him, and Amy let out a small sigh as she rested her head against his shoulder.

They sat in contented silence for some time, allowing themselves to pull away from the hustle and bustle around them and focus entirely on the warmth the other exuded.

"So – uh – Thomas is – " Charlie began carefully.

"My friend," Amy said instantly. "He and his brother were the first friends I made after I found out I was a witch, and they were the first to agree to help me out. We've always been friends."

"So nothing to worry about there?" Charlie asked carefully.

"Nothing to worry about," Amy assured him. There were another few minutes of silence between the couple, and when Charlie did speak again, it was nowhere near as lighthearted (even forced lightheartedness) as before.

"Did you – " Charlie began before breaking off. Amy pulled away a bit to look up at the wizard. He glanced at her, not fully meeting her eye, before continuing on. "Did you see T-Tonks and Remus?"

Amy stiffened immediately and bit her tongue. She didn't say anything but she did settle her head back onto Charlie's shoulder where she nodded stiffly.

"Do you know about Teddy?" he asked after a beat.

Amy nodded again, but this time she gathered up the nerve to say something too.

"They – uh – they brought him to see me," she choked out. "They brought him to Chicago. He's a darling, an absolute darling."

"He is," Charlie agreed. He sighed and leaned over slightly to press his cheek against the top of Amy's head, where he could clearly smell her shampoo and perfume. Knowing there was not much else either of them could say or do, nothing they could do to amend the situation at hand, and nothing much they could to heal their breaking hearts, the witch and wizard sat in humble, contemplative silence, watching over those around them.

Amy didn't dare look over at the other Weasleys, and she didn't dare bring up Fred. She couldn't bring herself to do it, couldn't bring herself to say that simple name, that single syllable, because she knew that all it would do would cause Charlie and his family pain. And they had suffered through enough pain to last them a lifetime. Anything that she could do to ease that pain, or at least keep it at bay, well she would certainly do it, and if that meant keeping quiet and not saying a word about her love's dead brother – at least not for now – then so be it. She would remain silent and hold his hand tightly in hers until he was ready, and when he was ready, she would be there for him.

For now, however, all she could do was hold his hands, and all he could do in return – for he didn't truly know how heartbroken Amy was inside – was grip her own hand tightly in his.

Their hands remained interlocked, neither one willing to move or release the other from their grasp, and they probably would have sat like that for the rest of the night – for the rest of the lives – if Hermione and Ron hadn't come barreling up to them, breathless and looking more frantic than Amy and Charlie had ever seen before.

Amy straightened up immediately at the sight of the two, removing her head from Charlie's shoulder, and she felt Charlie grasp her hand a little bit tighter at the sight of his anxious brother.

"Ron," Charlie said immediately. "What is it? Did something happen?" He looked immediately over his brother's shoulder to where the rest of his family was still congregated. He immediately counted their heads, making sure that there were indeed eight including Ron ( _seven now_ Charlie corrected in his head).

"No, no, nothing's happened," Ron strangled out.

"What is it then?" Amy demanded, feeling her heart begin to pound a bit harder beneath her chest.

In his attempt to get the words out as quickly as possible, Ron stumbled and stuttered over his words, and it wasn't until Amy looked over at Hermione for clarification that the couple finally understood that _something_ had indeed happened.

"It's Harry," Hermione burst out, tears watering her eyes. "He's gone."

And before either Amy or Charlie could say or do anything at all – they hadn't even taken a single _breath _ – a voice broke through the hum of the Great Hall, piercing its way through the mind and soul of all those gathered in the room, and chilling Amy, once more, to the bone.

"Harry Potter is dead."

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Hey so, something about this chapter felt off to me. Maybe it was something to do with the characterization of it all or maybe I'm just exhausted. Anyway, I feel like this chapter is almost a filler of sorts and it's more a character-based chapter than anything else.

I've been incredibly fortunate in my life in that I haven't lost many people in my life, and so I found myself struggling to interpret and portray those feelings of despair and grief in this chapter. I'm hoping I did a somewhat adequate job of it, and I hope that the characters weren't too OOC for you all. Don't forget to let me know what you thought! I appreciate any comments or criticism you can give me!

Signing off,

WiseGirl


	81. Chapter 80

**AN:** Hello all! In honor of my _three year anniversary _(I don't know if that's good or bad by the way), here's the next chapter of Here For You!

**Dedication**: To my wonderful reviews of the last year! Thank you for sticking with me, even after my unexpected and rather long hiatus! I cannot tell you how much I appreciate you all!

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing you recognize.

* * *

><p><em>If you feel like<br>__you're falling apart,  
><em>_fall into my arms.  
><em>_I promise I will catch you  
><em>_and I promise  
><em>_I will always love  
><em>_your brokenness._

_-_Tyler Knott Gregson

* * *

><p>"<em>Harry Potter is dead<em>."

The Hall fell silent almost instantly and it was this silence that struck Amy first, this eerie unsettling silence that had settled over all of those in the Great Hall. It struck her to the core, unnerving the normally calm and collected – if not slightly temperamental – witch.

The second thing to strike the witch was the feeling of Charlie's hand slipping away from hers as he stood on unsteady feet. He didn't stray too far from her, for which she was immensely grateful, taking only a few staggered steps so that he could stand between his ashen faced family and the witch.

And as Voldemort's voice continued to ricochet off the marble stone of the castle's walls, the others in the Great Hall drew close together, huddled in the center of the room as they sought out some semblance of sanctuary and salvation from the booming voice and its cruel master.

"He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him," Voldemort proclaimed in his sickly smooth voice. "We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone."

There was a pause here, and Amy heard several shuddered breaths and low cries from those gathered in the Hall. It was all the witch could do to not let out a cry of her own as she thought about Harry Potter's body being nothing more than that – _a body_. Her heart constricted tightly at the thought, and though she tried desperately to hold in her gasp of disbelief, she simply couldn't. Amy saw Charlie throw her a look of concern, his own expression a mix of despair and doubt. He did not, however, make any motion as though to rejoin the witch at their seat by the table, but Amy suspected somewhere in the back of her mind – somewhere past the hopelessness and heartache – that it was because he was far too stunned to move a muscle.

"The battle is won," Voldemort continued. "You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family.

"Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."

It was then that Amy realized that many people had started to cry, and she bit down on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from joining in. The thought of losing anymore of her friends – of her family – terrified the witch beyond belief, but she also knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that if they did what Voldemort was commanding of them that she would never make it out alive. She didn't believe for a second that Voldemort would allow his 'new world' to be spoiled by the likes of her tainted, _muddy_ blood. (And somewhere in the very deep depths of her mind, Amy couldn't help but that that if he wasn't the Darkest Wizard of all time, as well as being completely heartless and lacking all morals, Voldemort would have made an excellent politician. He already had the pulling bologna from the sky aspect down pat.)

Amy also knew that if they didn't step out of the castle and face this creature that was more monster than man that Voldemort and his followers would not hesitate to slay them where they stood.

Besides, they would all need to see if Voldemort was telling the truth, if Harry Potter truly was dead.

It was McGonagall who led the charge in the end, resilient, dependent, loyal McGonagall whose hair was more astray than Amy had ever seen. The weary witch was the first to step from the Great Hall, her steps bold but with a certain hesitancy that Amy was unaccustomed to seeing in the professor. The others in the hall saw McGonagall striding out of the Great Hall, and they were quickly to follow her. They gathered up what remained of their friends and family and trailed after McGonagall, hesitant and entirely fearful of what awaited them outside the doors of their once-sanctuary.

Somewhere through the daze, Charlie had made his way back to her, and he pulled the witch to her feet. He tangled his hand in hers and followed after his family, guiding her through the mass of people who were making their way slowly towards the front doors of the school, to where they would see the truth or lies of Voldemort's words.

Crossing the threshold of the entrance way, the witches and wizards from the castle pooled out onto the grounds, still clustered together in little groups as though that would offer them protection from Voldemort and his followers. Amy and Charlie made their way towards the edge of the group and a slight tug on her free hand let the witch know that the other Americans were right behind her.

Dawn was breaking in the distance, and the shadowed darkness that had consumed the castle through the night was riddled with highlights of red and orange from the approaching sun. These faint glimmers of light crept their way across the grounds, casting over the witches and wizards on both sides, and as Amy scanned the army across from her own. Her gaze lingered for several seconds on Voldemort's robe-clad form, his pale skin, the snake draped over his shoulders, and his violent, red eyes. This was the first time that she had ever set her sights on the monster, but she wasn't going to provide him with the satisfaction of looking upon him in horror when true horror was spread across the floor in the Hall behind them.

Instead the witch let her sights landed on Hagrid's massive figure. He was standing at the front of Voldemort's army, and Amy could only suspect that he had been taken prisoner during the battle. The half-giant was shaking desperately, and Amy thought for a moment it was because he was cold.

And then she caught sight of the broken figure in his arms just as McGonagall's cry which ripped through the silent air.

"NO!"

Amy cringed at the sound and she buried her face into Charlie's shoulder because she recognized that mop of black hair and those round-framed glasses and she couldn't bear to look at the shell of her former student and friend.

Around the witch, the others began to murmur as they were just as startled and horrified as Amy to discover that their dignified Transfiguration professor could make such a horrible noise. But it was all they needed to be told for them to know the truth: Harry Potter was dead.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny's own desperate pleas ("No!" "_NO!_" "Harry! HARRY!") for their friend only confirmed this for the crowd gathered around the castle doors, and the army immediately let loose shouts of their own. The screamed and swore, cursing Voldemort and his followers to hell, promising that they would never back-down, that He would lose, that Harry's death was not in vain. Amy felt Charlie stiffen besides her at this point, and she felt the rumble of his voice flood through her as he let out several colorful testimonies of his own.

And then just as quickly as the shouts had come, they fell silent with a bang, a flash of light, and a roar from Voldemort himself. It felt as though someone had slapped an iron hand over her mouth, and all around her, Amy could see that others were struggling in vain to continue their shouting, but try as they might, not one of them could force a single word past their lips and they resigned themselves to glaring fiercely across the battleground at a sneering Voldemort.

"SILENCE!" Voldemort ordered, his snake-like eyes glossing over the crowd of struggling witches and wizards. "It is over!" He seemed to heave a victorious breath before continuing on. "Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!"

Amy watched furiously, her jaw clenched together tightly to stop herself from screaming – though she could not even make a sound if she tried – and they watched as Hagrid lowered Harry's limp form to the grass at Voldemort's feet, his giant arms trembling the entire way.

"You see?" Voldemort cried, beginning to pace behind Harry's body. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

Amy shook her head desperately, wanting to call out and argue back, but she was beaten to the punch by Ron, who was standing several feet in front of Amy and Charlie alongside a shaking Hermione and Ginny.

"He beat you!" Ron roared and like magic, everyone around the red-head began to shout, their curses and screams melding together into one furious roar. She could feel the anger and hate radiating off of those around her, and the witch fed off of it, using it to hurl whatever insult, whatever cruel promise she could at the Dark witches and wizards before her.

Amy's own cry was lost in the thunder of voices, but it didn't matter because in that instant they were united, they were more than ready and more than willing to fight back, even in the face of Harry's death, and then just when the cry from the castle's defenders was becoming unbearable there was another bang and an even brighter white light and they all fell silent again, struggling violently against their own muteness.

"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds," Voldemort sneered, "killed while trying to save himself – "

There wasn't even time for the crowd to roar out their fury before someone broke from the pack, barreling towards Voldemort and his followers. He barely made it ten feet before there was another bang and the figure landed on his stomach, groaning in pain as Voldemort tossed aside the attacker's wand carelessly.

Amy gripped Charlie's hand infinitely tighter as she struggled to see who it was that had charged away from the pack. She did a quick count of the red-heads nearby and of the Americans behind her, only to find that they were all accounted for, and Amy forced her attention back to the figure who was struggling to get to his knees.

"And who is this?" Voldemort questioned, his voice carrying over the grounds and to the castle's defenders who all shuddered at the snake-like hiss it encompassed. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"

A dark haired witch to Voldemort's right let out a wickedly amused laugh. When Amy realized that it was Bellatrix Lestrange, she felt her stomach heave as her mind wandered back to Bellatrix's niece who was lying dead in the Hall behind her. The queasiness in her stomach only intensified as the black-haired and black-souled witch began to speak.

"It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord," Bellatrix declared in a much too delighted voice. "The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?"

Voldemort cocked his head in response and gave a queer sort of half-smile that did not suit his features in the slightest.

"Ah yes, I remember" he said thoughtfully as Neville finally managed to get to his feet, although he was now wandless. "But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?"

Even from her position in the crowd, Amy saw Neville straightened his shoulders and lift his chin, and she couldn't help the surge of pride that washed over her as she remembered what this boy had been and what he had grown to be.

"So what if I am?" Neville demanded, his voice carrying over the silence of the battlegrounds.

Voldemort sneered.

"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock," Voldemort told him as though he were discussing the weather. "You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."

Amy wondered briefly and bitterly if he also needed Muggleborn, American professors with a sarcastic tendency, but her thoughts were cut off by Neville, shy Neville who would turn beet-red whenever Amy praised his work in class but who apparently had no qualms about standing up to the Darkest Wizard who'd ever lived.

"I'll join you when hell freezes over," Neville declared before thrusting his fist into the air. "Dumbledore's Army!"

The boy's shout was followed by cries from the castle's defenders, who began to cheer wildly. This time, Voldemort could not cut off their screams, and Amy couldn't help but throw her own fist up in solidarity with Neville's, thinking that Voldemort would have done better to pay attention in Charms class than Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Voldemort, however, did not seem deterred by his inability to keep the crowd quiet, and he only continued to sneer and leer at the castle's defenders.

"Very well," he declared in a tone of voice that caused Amy's heart to stutter and made her shuffle closer to Charlie who was still voicing his own cheers with the others around them. "If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your own head be it."

Amy barely had enough time to register these words before a window shattered well above her head, and glass particles showered down around them. Amy ducked her head, along with many others, to avoid being cut, and the witch looked up just in time to see Voldemort catch something in his hand.

Together, the armies watched as Voldemort shook out whatever was in his pale hands to reveal the Sorting Hat, just as frayed and as worn as it had ever been.

"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School," Voldemort announced. "There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone." He turned his attention to the wizard still standing defiantly before him and smiled. "Won't they, Neville Longbottom?"

Before anyone could move or do anything, Voldemort waved his wand and Neville went rigid and stiff and Voldemort stepped forward to force the Sorting Hat onto Neville's head.

Amy, fearing the worst, tightened her grip on Charlie's hand so much that she was surprised he didn't flinch in pain, and she drew her wand from the depths of her skirt pocket. Behind her, Amy heard the other Americans do the same.

"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me," decreed Voldemort, and Amy and the others could do nothing but watch in absolute horror as the wizard waved his wand and the Hat upon Neville's head – and undoubtedly Neville himself – caught fire and began to burn brilliantly in the remaining darkness of the night.

Screams and gasps rose up from the shadows, and Amy was not ashamed to say that her scream was one of the loudest. Even though she had expected something disastrous, the sight of one of her former students being lit aflame was more than Amy could bear, and the witch made sure to file the memory along with the other terrible ones she had gained that night.

Yet before they could do anything, there was a cacophony of voices from within the castle. Amy had just looked back at the castle entrance, wondering who the hell was still inside, something excessively massive came stumbling out from around the castle. It was a giant, but unlike the one's that had attacked last night – unlike the one who had killed Bridgette – this one was dressed in ragged clothes and it almost sounded like he was calling out for someone (Hagger?) in desperation. The only response to these cries was from Voldemort's own band of giants who staggered out from the forest in search of this apparent ally of the castle's defenders.

And then there was a high-pitched whistling as arrows were shot from the forest, eerily similar to Dumbledore's funeral just a year or so ago, and Voldemort and his followers scattered as a herd of centaurs came charging from the forest's shadows.

Everything was happening so quickly that if hadn't been for the silvery glint of metal in the air, Amy would have missed Neville pull a sword – where the hell did he get a sword from? – from the still burning Sorting Hat and slice the head off of Voldemort's massive snake.

And then everything was a blur. The sun was rising over the line of the trees, and it blinded everyone who was stuck in its path, and then people were running around, shoving their way through the crowd in a desperate attempt to get away from the stampeding giants. Everything was a mess, everyone was a mess, and Amy could not see a thing and in the chaos and the crush, Amy lost sight of Voldemort and Harry just as Hagrid's voice rang out over the mayhem.

"HARRY! HARRY – WHERE'S HARRY?"

Knowing that the only place they could ever be safe from the giant's crushing feet was within the castle's walls, Amy grabbed hold of Charlie's hand, gripping it tightly, and began to pull him towards the entrance.

"Get inside!" Amy cried, trying to get the attention of those around her. "Everyone get inside, now!"

Those who heard the witch's cry complied, and they began to usher their friends and family into the castle. Amy was quick to make sure that the Americans were following after her, and she couldn't help the rush of pride – and fear – that rushed over her to see that they had not only managed to guide much of the crowd back into the castle, but that they were already fearlessly fighting against the Death Eaters who were trying to follow them into the safety of the stone walls.

Amy had hoped that only the castle's defenders would find their way into the school, but luck did not appear to be on their side. The halls were flooded with allies and foes alike, and over the cry of curses and spells, Amy could hear Voldemort's high-pitched shouts coming from within the Great Hall.

Charlie's hand was still gripped tightly in hers, even with the hustle and bustle around them, and they were quick to enter the Great Hall themselves only to find themselves in the midst of the largest battle either had ever seen. There were more people in here then there had been outside – many more people than before – and it took Amy a moment to connect the dots.

The shouts and clamor they had heard as the giants had started their stampede had been from within the castle and not only that…

They were reinforcements.

Help had come in the form of family and friends and shopkeepers from Hogsmeade, and the house-elves from the kitchen, and the centaurs from the forest, and so many people that Amy didn't even recognize, so many more people than Amy had ever expected would be there fighting alongside her, and more people than even the Death Eaters had thought they would ever have to face.

So many people, in fact, that Voldemort's followers were beginning to crumble and fall, and Amy wasn't about to stand by and watch this all happen without her help, and it seemed neither was Charlie.

Their hands slipped apart, as they clearly had not expecting the other to run off into battle, and Amy quickly lost sight of Charlie in the swarm of people still fighting their way through the entrance hall. She didn't have time to think about where the wizard had gone off to, because from the center of the Great Hall, Voldemort was shouting off curse after curse, razing anyone who dared step into his path.

There was a moment where Amy considered racing forward to take the next spot in this duel when Amy caught sight of McGonagall, Slughorn, and Kingsley Shacklebolt all falling into step together as they began their battle against Voldemort. She was much too far away to join in now, and Amy suspected that the trio would be able to handle themselves well, even against an evil man such as Voldemort.

So instead of joining into the battle with her co-workers, she fell into battle with her students. Even with the influx of castle defenders, there were more than enough Death Eaters to go around, and Amy did not hesitate in the slightest before unleashing every scrap of energy and every scrap of magical knowledge she had upon her enemies. Around her, Amy saw that her students were also not afraid to use all of their power to take down their foes.

They were no longer just fighting for their lives or their friends. They were fighting for the castle. They were fighting for their home.

Amy had just struck down the Death Eater Dolohov, sending the wizard crashing to the floor with a painful shriek when a familiar voice chimed out above all the others, and Amy found herself whipping around at the sound.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"

Amy watched with wide eyes as Molly Weasley pushed her way through the crowd of students. The mother flung off her cloak and drew her wand as she faced down Bellatrix Lestrange, who couldn't help but let out a condescending laugh at Molly's appearance.

"OUT OF MY WAY!" Molly shouted towards the three girls who had been fighting, and Amy wasn't surprised to see Ginny, Hermione, and Luna backing away from the duel.

Amy knew how scary Molly Weasley could be. She had seen the fear in the Weasley children's eyes when faced with their mother's wrath, and she too had experienced a rather hairy look from the typically friendly and warm woman.

But this?

This was an entirely new level of terrifying, one that Amy hoped she would never experience. Watching the duel was frightening enough, she could even begin to imagine what it would be like to be in Bellatrix's position right then with Molly bearing down on her.

Still, Amy couldn't help but surge forward when she saw Molly falter. Her wand was already drawn and a curse ready on her lips, but she barely made it five feet towards the dueling witches before someone grabbed her arm and pulled her back. Amy looked up, ready to fend off this foe, until she saw the bright blue eyes of her captor.

"She's got this," Charlie told Amy just as Molly's own cries to "Get back! _Get back_!" broke through the crowd.

"Charlie," Amy protested. "She needs help. Let me help her!"

"I can't lose you," Charlie said instantly. "Not again."

Amy took these words and placed them right next to her heart, along with everything else he had ever said to her, but she wasn't about to back down. Not again, not this time.

Charlie could see the defiance in her face, and he couldn't help the warmth that washed over him as he realized that the feisty, independent woman he had fallen in love with was still there besides him, and she was still willing to fight, still willing to get her hands dirty if it meant doing what was right, and he was reminded immediately of the first time he had seen her in the hazy light of a late summer day as she led him through the Forbidden Forest. She had been wearing a dress then too, and despite the severity of the situation, despite the fact that his mother was dueling one of the cruelest and most ruthless witches of all time, despite the fact that his brother was dead, and despite all the horror he had seen and would never forget, he couldn't help but admire the delicate slope of her nose and the soft blend of smooth skin with dusted freckles

He remembered when he'd fallen in love with her, and why he'd fallen in love with her – her fire and her selflessness and that annoying habit she had of always feeling guilty when she had no reason to – and as much as he wished to keep her safe, his grip around her arm slackened.

Amy seized this opportunity to rip her arm away from Charlie, her expression becoming determined as she focuses her attention on Molly and Bellatrix. But just as Amy stepped forward, preparing to race up next to Molly, preparing to fight, Bellatrix's voice broke through the din.

"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" the witch cackled madly. "When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?"

Amy felt a jab at her own heart at this exclamation and she was sure Charlie and the rest of his family felt it even stronger, but before Amy could jump into the duel and smack that taunting smile off the witch's face with a good, sharp spell, something miraculous and completely spell-binding happened.

"You – will – never – touch – our – children – again!" Molly let out in piercing screams and before the entire hall's very eyes, Molly let loose a curse of her own that struck Bellatrix Lestrange directly in the chest and the witch tumbled over onto her back, dead.

The witch's death was met by a cheer from the surrounding crowd and a yowl from Voldemort as he watched his last true and faithful servant fall.

And then McGonagall, Kingsley, and Slughorn were thrown backwards by one of Voldemort's curses, and his wand was turned onto Mrs. Weasley. Next to her, Amy felt Charlie go rigid and he was just about to jump in between the two, ready to defend his mother, when a massive, silvery shield sprung up between Molly and Voldemort, and the entire Hall was left gaping, looking around to see who had cast this charm.

There was an odd sort of shimmer in the middle of the room, just in between Molly and Voldemort, which quickly disappeared as a figure appeared before them all, a cloak falling into a puddle at his feet.

The witch would have recognized that head of hair from anywhere – anyone would have – and the startled and relieved cries of "Harry!" and "HE'S ALIVE!" died away as all of those who had gathered realized what exactly was happening before them, and in the silence of the hall, Harry and Voldemort began to circle each other, their eyes locked in a duel of their own.

"I don't want anyone else to try to help," Harry proclaimed, his voice carrying over the heads of those gathered. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

"Potter doesn't mean that," Voldemort said with a sneer that sent a shiver down Amy's back. "That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"

"Nobody," Harry said with conviction and in a surprisingly calm voice. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good…"

"Horcruxes?" Charlie whispered, in confusion. "What the hell is a Horcrux?"

He turned to Amy, knowing that she would have some sort of an answer, and he could tell by her wide eyes that she did indeed have an idea of what Harry was talking about.

"Amy, what is it?"

"It's a bit of his soul," the witch said in a breathy voice. "He saved bits of his soul so that he couldn't be killed."

She sounded so shocked by it all, she was in such a daze, that Charlie drew closer to her, wrapping his arm around her waist and drawing her nearer to him. He forced himself to look away from the witch, latching his eyes onto the scene before them. He didn't seem to notice that Amy didn't do the same as she was entirely wrapped up in the fact that Harry Potter had just said there were _no more Horcruxes_ which meant that there _had_ been some at one point.

Sure, Amy knew about Horcruxes. She had just graduated from Salem and was working as a teacher's assistant for the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. She was helping the professor with her lesson plans when she came across a particularly dark and in-depth book on Dark Magic. She was surprised such a book existed, especially when she discovered that very few books even mentioned the word Horcrux.

She had never spoken of the book, never thought it to be of any importance, but now in this moment, she was glad she knew about it because at least she could understand a little bit of what was going on in this final duel between wizards.

Everything else, however? All of this information about Snape and Dumbledore's death being purposeful and how Snape had been in love with Harry's mother, not to mention this bewildering concept of a Master Wand – _the Elder Wand of legend_ – it was all just too much for Amy to process. It was all just flooding through her mind and Amy knew that she would have to sort through it later, hopefully much later, and in the back of her mind, Amy couldn't help but wonder how on earth Harry had gotten involved in all of this, how he had ended up being the one – _the Chosen One_ – to end this all.

"Horcruxes," Amy repeated in disbelief.

"Shhh," Charlie ushered from next to the witch. She glanced at him quickly before focusing whatever attention remained in her weary body on the scene before her. The two were still circling each other. The only difference was that the sun was now beginning to poke up through the broken window panes of the Great Hall.

"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you?" Harry was saying, his head shaking in dismay. "Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? _The wand chooses the wizard_…. The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance…. The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy."

Amy's eyes flicked briefly away from the duelers and towards the blonde haired wizard who was huddled in the back of the crowd with his parents. She couldn't see his expression from her spot in the crowd, but she suspected he was just as astonished and confused as the rest of them who were waiting with bated breath as they watched the scene before them.

"But what does it matter?" Voldemort hissed, drawing the witch's attention away from her former student. "Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: We duel on skill alone… and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy…."

"But you're too late," Harry informed the wizard, and Amy felt her heart skip a beat. "You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him."

The eyes of everyone in that room settled on the very wand in Harry's hand, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Amy felt hope flood through her as she understood what was about to happen, and she prayed everything would turn out right.

"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" Harry asked, finally freezing in his steps and making his opponent do the same. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does… I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

There was a pause, and Amy was blinded as the sun finally broke over the edge of the window, and she blinked and turned away from the bright orange shine, hearing the two wizards cast their final words.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

"_Expelliarmus_!"

And when the witch turned back, bracing herself against the blinding sun, she saw Harry standing in the middle of the Great Hall, two wands in hand and Voldemort, dead, at his feet.

There was a deafening silence which reigned over the Hall and then the crowd surged forward, surrounding Harry and pulling at him, all of them eager to get as close to the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, and their savior. He had somehow managed to save them all and Amy could feel the tears prickling at her eyes, a mix of joy and despair – joy for this bloody battle to finally be over and despair that Fred and Tonks and Remus Bridgette and all the others weren't there to see this moment – and Charlie was standing next to her, and when he caught her eye, the wizard smiled blindingly and then he was pulling her into her arms, her toes just barely grazing the stone floor as she allowed herself to be consumed by the feeling of his lips pressed against hers. They were smiling and their teeth were pressed together rather painfully but they didn't care because it was all over and they were together and the sun was shining and it was all so perfect that Amy almost couldn't breathe.

She couldn't exactly remember it all, it had all happened so quickly, and her emotions were all over the place. She couldn't remember how long or how strongly that joy surged through her or what she thought or even begin to describe the relief she felt knowing that Voldemort was dead and that Harry and Hermione and Neville and her other students and the Weasleys and Charlie – and even _herself _– were alive.

What she did remember, however, was that when Amy and Charlie finally pulled away from each other, they were still smiling dazzlingly.

But once the crowd around them all had faded away, Amy finally remembered that they were standing in the midst of a funeral hall, and though she hated to leave Charlie's side, she knew that there was something she had to do. So she left him with his family and went to join her American one.

They had claimed a section of one of the tables for themselves and they were clustered together in contentment. Though they were seated near to their fallen friends, it warmed Amy's heart immensely to see that – for the most part – the Americans were smiling and talking softly amongst each other, clearly just as pleased as the rest of them that Voldemort was gone and the battle was done and over.

It was Serena that saw Amy coming, and her expression flickered between elated and mournful and Amy knew that the witch was thinking of the woman who had once been their roommate, classmate, and best friend and who now lay dead besides them.

Serena stood and held her arms open to Amy, who gladly fell into the witch's embrace. The two held each other tightly and they were quickly joined by Blondie, whose blonde hair was more red from blood than it was blonde.

When the ex-roommates pulled apart, Amy saw that the other Americans had stopped their conversations and were waiting patiently for something. But when no one made any motion to say or do anything, Amy turned her attention to Serena.

"What is it?" she asked softly. "What are they waiting for?"

Serena smiled softly.

"They're waiting for you, Amy," the witch said. "They're waiting for you to say something."

"Oh," Amy said lightly, her eyes blinking rapidly. "Right."

Amy turned her attention back to the others, who she now realized were looking at her expectantly, and she saw that though they had delicate smiles on their faces, there was also tears etched into the dirt on their skin.

"I know we have reason to mourn. We all have a reason to mourn today," Amy said finally, and she looked over her shoulder at the four bodies of her friends. "I know that, and I would never deny you that right to mourn and grieve, but we also have reason to celebrate today, whether we want to or not. Because even though Bridgette and Robyn and Aaron and Celeste are dead, we are alive, we are all alive, and because of them, we can live, without fear and without loss of hope. We lost our friends today, but we gained our lives."

Amy broke off and wiped at her face, sniffling quietly.

"I gained my life back, and so did everyone in this Hall, and it's because of you and it's because of them and their sacrifice. I'll never be able to tell you how much this all means to be, and I'll never be able to thank them for what they've given up for me and for this world – _our world_ – and I will regret that for the rest of my life.

"I'll never get used to this pain, and it'll never truly fade away, I know that, but I also know that this pain is part of living and it's part of dying and it's part of this life that I've chosen and I would never change that."

Amy sighed and rubbed at her weary eyes.

"I don't know what else I can really say right now," the witch admitted. "But I know I could never thank you enough, and I hope it's enough for you right now to know that."

Amy's shoulders slumped as she looked from person to person before her and she had almost turned away, ready to go find Charlie and his family, when someone spoke up from behind her.

"So are we allowed to sleep or no?"

Amy turned back and found Shawn's dark eyes staring back at her. She couldn't help but think he looked so alone without Aaron at his side. Still, he gave the witch a smile and Amy couldn't help but feel so relieved that he didn't hate her guts for getting his best friend murdered.

"'Cuz you know, it's like the middle of the night back in America, and I'm sleepy and could really do with some beauty sleep," the wizard went on with a sleepy shrug of his shoulders.

"Yeah, you could definitely use of that," Eddie said with a roll of eyes.

"Like you can talk," Emma said as she jabbed an elbow into Eddie's side.

The group let out a gentle laugh and Amy couldn't help but let out a watery laugh of her own.

"He's right though," Mara spoke up. "This is a boarding school, isn't it? You think there'd be a bed a two around here somewhere."

"Wait, do British people even sleep in beds?" Samuel asked from besides Thomas. "I thought they slept in like tea cupboards or something."

"Hey!" Tiffany protested with a laugh. "That's rude! For all we know, tea cupboards are extremely cozy."

Amy laughed again and shook her head.

"You guys are the worst," she said with a smile. "But yeah, I think I can find you some beds."

The witch wiped at her eyes again and went off to do just that. It was the least she could do after all they had done for her. She only had to find McGonagall and put in a request for twelve beds for her American comrades and they were all set. The Professor had had to make a lot of accommodations for all those who had shown up to fight the battle, but they were fortunate enough to find themselves in a castle with many open rooms.

She had just seen them off to their rooms when a pair of arms wrapped around her waist and Amy found herself being pulled into Charlie's warm embrace. She immediately draped her own hands across his, the pads of her fingers running soothing circles over the backs of his freckled hands.

"Hey you," the wizard said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of Amy's head. Amy smiled and leaned into his embrace.

"Hey to you too," she said with a slight yawn.

"Tired?" he asked, his breath ticking the frayed hairs tucked behind her ear.

"Exhausted," the witch admitted.

"Mmm," Charlie hummed in her ear. "That's too bad, because I'm not tired in the slightest."

Amy turned in his arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?" she said. "You're not, huh?"

Charlie bit his lip and shook his head slightly and he pulled the witch even closer to him, his hands moving onto her hips. He leaned a little closer to her so that she could count each and every one of the freckles on his skin.

"Nope," he told the witch with a teasing smile. "Sleep is the furthest thing from my mind right now."

Amy could see from the glint in his eye that Charlie was up to no good but she also knew all too well that he was trying his hardest not to think of his family or the fact that his brother's body was in the Hall because she was trying to do the same thing. And who was she to deny him some solitude in the face of despair? She'd let him have his fun, because after everything he had been through the last few years, he deserved to _not_ think or worry. She'd let him play his game and she'd play along for as long as he needed her to and she'd do it with a smile on her face.

So instead of reminding the wizard that this was not the best time – though she doubted he needed any reminding at all – she smiled coyly and linked her fingers into the belt loops of his jeans.

"Then what on earth do you have on your mind, Mr. Weasley?"

Her voice was almost dreamy as the alluring feel of Charlie's warm, large hands soaked into her core, and when she took a deep breath, her chest pressed up against his and she could feel the buttons of his shirt press through the fabric of her dress.

"Let me show you," Charlie said softly and he tangled his hand in hers, leading her away from the still crowded Great Hall. The corridors were surprisingly empty and Amy suspected that everyone was either back in the Hall or had found their own way to a bed somewhere. And though the witch was trying her hardest to focus on the man before her and not the bloody evening that had only just ended, Amy found it increasingly difficult when there was evidence of the bloodshed all around her in the form of dust and debris.

And so, it took her a moment to realize that Charlie wasn't leading her to her own personal room – though she supposed it had been _Avery's_ for the past year – but was instead leading her up to the Gryffindor tower.

"Charlie Weasley," Amy said in an admonishing voice, drawing the wizard's blue gaze back to her, "you should know that only members of the Gryffindor House are allowed into their common room!"

"Yeah and Heads of Houses are supposed to have graduated from Hogwarts," Charlie said in a snippy voice. "You were willing to break the rules then, why not now?"

Amy scowled and glared at the wizard.

"I'm not the one who hired me," Amy shot back. "Blame Dumbledore and the previous Charms professor."

"Ah," Charlie said with an almost nostalgic sigh, "good old Flitwick. Good man, good teacher. I miss him."

"Oh yeah?" Amy asked with a slight laugh. "Well, if you miss him so much, then why don't you go find him and take _him_ to the Gryffindor common room instead of me?"

She tugged her hand from the red-head's and turned back towards the Great Hall, but she didn't make it very far before his arms were back around her waist and he was pulling her back towards him.

"While I will admit that Flitwick is a very respectable brilliant wizard, my dear," Charlie said into the witch's ear, "I much prefer you, and there's no one else I'd rather have in my arms right now – or ever for that matter – than you."

Amy smiled widely as she turned back to face Charlie.

"Charles Weasley," she said softly. "Since when have you had a way with words?"

Charlie laughed loudly at this and grabbed the witch's hand again, leading her once more towards the Gryffindor common room and this time she followed him without complaint and without a word. When they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady who guarded the entrance to the common room, she let them in without complaint, clearly recognizing Charlie head of red hair.

The main floor of the dorm was empty and the silence in the tower was so eerie that Amy doubted there was a single soul in the structure. Charlie led her up a set of stairs, all the way to the top, where they were met with a door with a gold sign that said _Seventh Year_.

Charlie reached out to open the door, but just as his hand hit the doorknob, Amy stopped him hesitantly.

"What if someone's already in there?" she asked nervously. "Or if someone comes up here to get some sleep? I don't want to take someone's bed away from them."

Charlie smiled softly.

"It's fine," he assured her. "You deserve some peace and quiet just as much as they do, and besides, there are enough beds for everyone."

He paused for a moment and looked down at the doorknob before looking hesitantly up at the witch.

"And if I'm being honest," he said in a voice just above a whisper, "if we're not sleeping in your room, well, this is the only other room I feel comfortable sleeping in, and I could really use some comfort, especially after tonight."

Amy smiled again and nodded her head slightly. Charlie turned the doorknob and let the witch into the room first, following closely behind her. She barely had enough time to take in the gold trimmings and scarlet fabrics of the room before she heard the snap of the door behind her and then his arms wrapped around her waist and Amy was pulled into Charlie's tender embrace. She clasped her hands over his and turned her head so she could press the side of her face against his toned chest. His face was pressed into the crook of her neck, his lips running along the course of her skin. Amy's eyes fluttered and she leaned her back against his front. He peppered kisses across her neck as he gently ushered her towards one of the beds.

Amy turned in his arms, pulling his face down so that their lips met, melding together warmly. She held him there for several moments, her fingers entangled in his ginger hair, and he gripped her waist tightly, keeping her pressed against him. He wrapped his arm around her, weaving his hand into the messy curls of her hair as he kept his lips firmly and fiercely pressed against hers.

She couldn't help the soft whimper that hummed out of her throat when he pulled her bottom lip between his teeth, and as the pads of his fingers brush lightly over her skin, she finds herself forgetting that she just spent an entire evening at war because the feel of his skin on hers is more than she can handle and it's all she can focus on and it's all Charlie wants to focus on.

The feel of her fingers tracing constellations against his star-like freckles and the smell of her day-old perfume filled his senses when he breathed, and Charlie pulled her impossibly closer, pressing his hips flush against hers as he carded his hand through her hair. She was intoxicating, completely and utterly intoxicating, consuming his every sense. Nine months was far too long, practically an eternity, and they had so much time, so many moments to make up.

But the feeling of Amy's body pressed up against his, of her fingers weaving through his hair and the warmth of her soft skin emanating through her clothing and into his bones, and her scent, and the feel of her lips pressed fiercely against his and the simple fact that she was there with him, and the fact that Fred was dead and so were Tonks and Remus and that Voldemort was gone, was all too much for him.

She felt the tremors rattling through his body before she felt the tears which were slowly but surely streaming from his eyes. Amy began to pull away but Charlie pressed his hands against the sides of her face, keeping her lips pressed against his.

"No," he muttered against her lips. "Please, don't let go. Please don't. Please don't."

He continued to murmur these words, his calloused fingers pressed against her downy skin. He was shaking and the tears were still streaming down his face.

Amy slipped her hands from his hair and pressed them against his own hands, carefully peeling his fingers away until she was able to free herself from his grasp. She pulled her face back so that she could see his face. He bowed his head but she was still close enough that she could see each tear that dangled from his eyelashes and every freckle that had been brushed across his face like stars that spanned over generations.

"Charlie," she whispered, moving one hand to his cheek. "Charlie, listen to me."

She pressed the palm of her hand into the red, irritated skin of his face. He leaned into her touch, craving the feel of her skin against his as he continued to weep.

"Please," he choked out in a scratchy voice. "Please, don't let me go. Please, don't leave me."

"I won't," she promised reverently. "I won't, I promise." She pressed her lips to his desperately, his skin feverish from all of his crying. She needed him to know that she was there and that she wasn't leaving – never again.

Amy pulled away, placing her hand gently under his chin and raised his face. He didn't resist, his tears still stuck to her face and she pressed her forehead against his so that his blue eyes met her hazel ones. His eyes were rimmed in red and Amy could see a new batch of tears brewing up within him.

"I promise you I'm not leaving you," she murmured. "I love you and I'm not leaving you ever again. I promise."

She could feel her own tears building up to match his and she swallowed them as he whispered back to her.

"I love you too," he muttered, unable to hold in his tears and Amy drew him towards her, pressing his face into the hollow of her neck as he dissolved into tears. He wrapped his arms around her waist as he continued to weep, his tears burning against the flesh of her collarbone, and she wound her fingers into his hair, murmuring soft, soothing words into his hair.

She kept her arms tight around him, holding him close to her as though he was but a small child, terrified by a thunderstorm, rather than a grown man – the love of her life no less – who had suffered more than anyone deserved. Slowly she leaned back, her back pressed against a pillow, and together they fell back against one of the beds and allowed the tears, anxiety, pain, and adrenaline of the night to consume them both.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> I hope you all enjoyed this! I clearly tried to shorten up the whole Voldemort/Harry scene because I figure you all know it by heart anyway, and I feel like some of you may feel that Amy's emotions over the whole thing were a bit truncated but that's because she;s just fought in a war and none of them are exactly emotionally stable. I also think I got a bit too comfortable writing purely original chapters because now that I have had to follow a timeline the last few chapters, I've been struggling and that might also be why Amy's emotions over it all seem rather... anti-climatic? I definitely think she'll come to terms with it all in the next few chapters. And yes, there will be more chapters. THIS IS NOT THE END. Anyway, let me know what you thought, and who knows, if you all hated it and think Amy's totally OOC, I can always go back and edit, and try and fix my disastrous mistake.

Signing off,

WiseGirl

P.S.

It was a year ago today that Amy went back to America and you all hated me... ah I miss those angry reviews. They were the best.

P.P.S.

After his chapter, this story is officially over 400,000 words! Yay!


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